


All or Nothing

by Applesandbannas747



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Awkwardness, F/M, Identity Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-02 02:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13308723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747
Summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir face an akumatized preschool teacher, and defeating her is far from child's play.





	1. A Normal Day

It was a normal Tuesday, by all accounts. The September sun shone brightly on Paris, the streets were bustling with foot traffic, and Marinette was hurriedly finishing yesterday's math homework during 1st period. After roughly two years of being Ladybug, she'd come to accept that she'd never be a stellar student. There just wasn't time for that, what with new akumatized citizens popping up almost daily. 

"Girl, you are _so_  doomed," Alya leaned over to whisper the revelation in Marinette's ear.

"I've got this," she protested. "Mme. Agathe gives points for showing work, so as long as I can convince her I made an effort..."

"She'll take pity on you?"

"That's the theory." Marinette scribbled on, and Alya turned her attention back to the history lecture. Marinette was flipping the page of her math packet when M. Bernard cleared his throat in a way Marinette recognized as a "you are busted". She looked up guiltily, ready to face his ire. But his ire was, for once, not directed at her. Adrien Agreste was sliding into his seat next to Nino, shoulders slumped sheepishly. 

"Thank you for joining us today, Monsieur Agreste. I trust you had a good morning?" M. Bernard clucked disapprovingly.

"Sorry," Adrien said, pulling out his books. "I overslept. It won't happen again." 

M. Bernard continued with a short lecture on punctuality and the importance of school, even for Adrien Agreste, model extraordinaire. Marinette hardly paid attention to this rant, other than to register offense at M. Bernard's conviction that Adrien was a stuck up rich kid as bad as Chloe. That was simply untrue. Whatever the reason for Adrien's lateness, Marinette was sure it was a good one. 

"Gawk, much?" Alya teased.

"Hush, you," Marinette hissed, blush spreading over her cheeks. Adrien was her long time crush. She'd liked him since she was thirteen. She had, unfortunetly, made no progress in either wooing or getting over him. With her sixteenth birthday coming up fast, that was a sad statement. Alya just laughed at Marinette's glare. Marinette turned back to her work, only glancing at Adrien occasionally. He seemed to be working on something too, she noticed. She wondered what.

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

"Pass up your homework, please," Mme. Agathe said as the late bell rang. M. Bernard must love Mme. Agathe, Marinette thought. The woman was nothing if not punctual. Marinette collected her row's pile of work and took it to the front of the class. Hers was...completed. She doubted she got more than a handful of problems correct, but what could you do? 

Marinette plopped back into her seat and settled in for the class. She didn't have anymore last minute homework to distract her from it today. Lucky for her, they were covering matrices today and she could not wrap her head around the devil boxes. 

"I miss algebra," she bemoaned aloud as Mme. Agathe set up the SmartBoard.

"No kidding," Nino said, turning from the row in front of Marinette and Alya. "Solving for x was way more fun."

"Fun. Right." Marinette laughed. "I don't know if I'd call math fun, exactly, but simple equations are  _way_  easier to do during history."

"You're kidding, right?" Nino barked a laugh.

"What?"

"You do your math before class, too? Man, you and Adrien should start a club."

Adrien and Marinette met eyes in surprise. "I don't have time for any more clubs, or I'd call that a solid idea," Adrien smiled easily.

"Y-yeah, I'm short on time also. Unless the club literally took place during M. Bernard's lectures, I would never attend meetings." She ended the thought with a forced laugh, kicking herself for being unable to say even one coherent sentence to Adrien without accenting it with a crazed laugh and/or expression. 

"There's an idea," Adrien gave a genuine laugh and Marinette felt like melting. 

Before anything more could be said, a crash sounded from outside and Marinette's eyes darted to the window.  _Please_ , she thought, dread rising,  _please don't be an akuma._  It was, of course, an akuma.  _Great_. Saving Paris during the school day was Marinette's least favorite part of the gig. Coming up with new ways to slink out of class was no easy task. She raised her hand, making sure it shook just enough to convey tremors of illness.

"Mme. Agathe? I don't...I don't feel so good. May I go to the nurse's office?" She held her stomach and forced her chest to convulse as if she were trying not to puke. 

"Fine," Mme. Agathe said begrudgingly, waving for her to leave. Marinette collected her things gratefully, but before she could dart from the room, Adrien stood.

"I'll take her," he said, taking her arm lightly. Marinette went red. 

"Yes, that may be a good idea," their teacher said, regarding Marinette. "She does not look well at all."

"Th-thanks," Marinette stammered once they were out of the class. "I mean, you didn't have to—I could've gone to the office alone, I hate to—to interrupt your learning."

"Please, making sure you're okay is way more important than math."

"Oh." Her blush was bone deep, and she was sure she'd trip any moment from weak knees. As they walked, Marinette couldn't help but feel guilty over making Adrien worry for her when she was not actually sick.  _Right_. She remembered the reason for this charade all at once. An akuma was on the loose. She said goodbye to Adrien at the nurse's office and hurried to transform behind the bed curtain before Nurse Lucie returned.

"Let's get this akuma sorted out before lunch!"  



	2. An Abnormal Teacher

It didn’t take long to arrive at the scene of the crime. A tall woman with short cropped purple and blue hair stood out as the akumatized victim. Though her super-villain costume was more subdued than most, she was the obvious suspect, because…

“Woah!” Chat Noir exclaimed, landing neatly next to Ladybug. “Why are there so many small kits?” 

“No clue,” Ladybug picked her way through the sea of children, edging towards the akumatized woman.

“I’m glad you asked,” the woman said, turning to face them. “Children,” she said, “are much more pleasant than adults, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Wait,” Chat said skeptically. “Are you implying that your superpower is…turning people into kids?”

“Yes I am, Chaton,” she smiled. “I am La Maîtresse, and I plan on making this city better, starting from the beginning.”

“I hope you’re a teacher,” Chat Noir snorted, and Ladybug elbowed him in the ribs.

“It’s no time for your jokes—there are  _children_  here, Chat, you can’t imply she’s a…you know.” 

“Fine. Should we get to it, then?” Chat asked, and Ladybug nodded, getting into fighting stance.

“Let’s make this quick, I’d rather get back to dealing with the teachers I actually have, rather than fighting one I’ve never met.” With that, Ladybug charged at La Maîtresse.

“ _Go to Time Out!_ ” La Maîtresse bellowed in a commanding voice, pointing to a small plastic chair that had appeared just next to Ladybug. To her surprise, she jerked over to the chair and obediently sat down.

“Ladybug?” Chat called hesitantly, and Ladybug didn’t miss the amusement in his voice.

“Teacher voice,” she grumbled, unable to move from her timeout chair. Hawkmoth’s mask superimposed over La Maîtresse’s face, and Ladybug fought against her invisible restraints. She knew what was coming.

“And you, my little kitty,” the woman pointed a mauve fingertip at Chat. “ _It’s nap time!_ ” Chat immediately curled into a ball and shut his eyes. Ladybug was unsure if he was truly asleep, but in any case, he was certainly down for the count. Of all the ways to go down, Ladybug thought angrily.

“Interesting,” La Maîtresse stepped closer to Ladybug, crouching down to inspect her face.

“You won’t get my miraculous, I won’t let you have it!” Ladybug spat at the woman.

“That trick,” she said, meeting Ladybug’s eyes, “only works on children.”

“Huh?” Ladybug was lost. Usually this was the part where villains grabbed for her earrings. They knew better than to idle in completing Hawkmoth’s task.

“My teacher voice is only effective on kids.” She frowned. “I don’t endanger kids, superheroes or not.” She stood up, dusting off her long Starry Night skirt and clicked away in her sensible heels. 

“Um, what?” 

“ _Think about what you’ve done for ten minutes, then wake your friend and return to school._ ” La Maîtresse tossed the comment over her shoulder, then walked off with a line of children behind her.  

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

“That was humiliating,” Chat grumbled as Ladybug shook him awake.

“You’re a cat,” she said, unamused with his whinging. “You think taking a little cat nap is bad? Try being in timeout for ten minutes in front of all the people you’re supposed to be saving!”

“Yeah, that was pretty funny.” She glared at him for that. “I meant awful. All we need are some earplugs, no problem.”

“Yeah,” Ladybug sighed. “But that will have to wait.”

“What? Why? You never let an akuma wait.”

“I know, but she told me to go back to school.”

“And you’re just going to listen to—Oh, right. Yeah, okay. I guess I’ll get back to my classes too, then. Meet up later?”

“For sure.” Ladybug started walking, looking for a nook to transform in.

“Hey, Ladybug?”

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t she take our miraculous?”

“She says she doesn’t want to fight us because we’re kids,” Ladybug shrugged.

 

“We’re hardly kids,” Chat scoffed, offended.

“Not the point, Chat,” Ladybug said impatiently. “It’s only a matter of time before Hawkmoth convinces her to abandon her principles and fight us in earnest. We need to be ready to face her. And, it would seem, we are susceptible to all her powers because we are not technically adults. We need a gameplay.”

“But first, we attend our classes.”

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

As it turned out, Marinette was back at school before math was even over. She hurried back to class, intending to tell Mme. Agathe that she felt much better now that Nurse Lucie had fixed her up.

“Is Marinette okay?” Marinette froze outside the door. That had been Mme. Agathe. Who was she talking to?

“Yes, I think so. I stayed until Nurse Lucie came, I hope that’s okay.”  _Adrien_. Marinette’s heart thudded so loudly she was sure the whole class would hear it. Adrien had stuck around, outside an empty room, to make sure she was okay. He was just too perfect. Marinette slumped against the wall, waiting several minutes before entering the room. If Nurse Lucie had just arrived at the office, her story wouldn’t check out. She had to give Lucie time to ‘fix her up.’ So she waited, listening in on the lecture and cursing the existence of matrices. 

The rest of the day went by without a hitch. Mostly. Alya had gotten on the story of La Maîtresse and had commented on how weird it was that Ladybug and Chat Noir hadn’t purified her yet. Despite the stab of guilt Marinette felt at that, it was kind of nice to have a day for school and school alone. Even if it was the result of a siren’s song. 

“I mean, this wacko isn’t doing too much harm, I suppose. But it’s still crazy that Ladybug and Chat Noir haven’t taken her down, you know?” Alya was saying as they left school for the day.

“I guess,” Marinette said noncommittally. 

“Especially since she’s a low-class villain,” Alya continued. “I mean, she’s a kiddie teacher, for Chat’s sake!”

“She’s deceptively powerful,” Marinette muttered, defensive. After all, teacher’s did have a lot of hold over the lives of kids. 

“I’m sure,” Alya didn’t seem to buy it. “I’m going to go scope out the scene, you coming?”

“I’d better not, I’ve got homework,” Marinette said, poised to make her getaway.

“Come on, girl, it’s been way too long since we hung out,” Alya tugged at Marinette playfully. “Can’t homework wait for class tomorrow, like usual?”

“I…” Marinette tried to protest, but it  _had_  been forever since she’d had time for Alya.  _God, I’m a terrible best friend._  “Alright, I’ve got a minute.”

“Yes!” Alya gleefully pulled Marinette along, headfirst into trouble.

La Maîtresse had amassed a small army of children. They were currently in the middle of lesson, it seemed. 

“I can’t believe this,” Alya said, phone out and recording for the Ladyblog. She’d built herself a career out of her middle school hobby. Her blog was regarded as the holy grail of Ladybug and Chat Noir info and updates, and she racked in a pretty good income for running it. “This nut is actually collecting a huge hoard of five year olds! Just to teach them! Who does that?”

“La Maîtresse, it would appear,” Marinette eyed the woman wearily. “She seems like one of the akumatized who isn’t so caught up in the power or the miraculous. She’s one of the ones with a personal crusade she’s set on completing.”

“You’re right,” Alya agreed, writing a note in her open spiral notebook. “And her crusade is…turning everyone into kids so she can teach them? I don’t get it.”

“You know what they say; change starts with children. She wants this city to change, and raising a generation tailored to her desires is one way to go about it.”

“Wow, that’s hardcore. I wonder what change she wants? And what on Earth pissed her off so bad to make her scrap an entire generation?”

“Good question.”

“Welcome to my class, girls,” La Maîtresse appeared behind them, tone uncanny in similarity to M. Bernard’s morning greeting for Adrien.

“Busted,” Marinette whispered. 

“You’ll never get away with this!” Alya shouted. “Ladybug won’t let you raise an army of minions, and neither will the city!” 

Marinette groaned. La Maîtresse didn’t seem to have an issue with teens, unless provoked. And Alya was something of a genius when it came to angering akumatized villains. 

“ _Go to your rooms,_ ” La Maîtresse commanded, “do not leave until it is time for school.”

“You can’t make us— woah!” Alya’s feet had betrayed her, carrying her away from La Maîtresse and Marinette. Marinette was resigned to her fate.

“Bye Alya, see you tomorrow.” She allowed her feet to carry her home. Chat would not be pleased at the further delay in handling La Maîtresse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, Chat's 'joke' about La Maîtresse is a reference to the fact that in French, La Maîtresse can mean early childhood/elementary teacher OR a mistress, if you know what I mean


	3. An Almost Boring Night

Marinette was not pleased at being confined to her room, but there was absolutely nothing she could do to fight it. She’d called Chat and let him know of her predicament. He’d been more amused than upset, though his worry about La Maîtresse’s plot was evident. Rightfully so, at last count about 3% of Parisian’s over the age of twenty had been turned into kids. 3% didn’t seem like a lot, but it was. Marinette sighed, dwelling on La Maîtresse and trying to construct a plan as she worked on a dress she’d been meaning to finish for weeks.

“Merde,” she cursed, pulling the garment from the sewing machine before reaching for the seam ripper. She’d gotten too engrossed in her thoughts and her under stitch had strayed to the wrong side of the seam. After a couple minutes of this, she realized she was too irritated to make any real progress. “Maybe some fresh air will help,” she propelled her rolling chair across the room and stood to stretch. Her balcony was, mercifully, considered part of her room and she was allowed to climb through the door to it. She hung her arms over the rail and rested her head on them, regarding Paris. She should be out there saving all those people, but instead she was trapped in her room. 

A dark blur flew across some rooftops nearby, and Marinette’s mood lit up.

“Chat!” She called as loudly as she could. Chat Noir, she knew, had crazy good hearing. Moments later he landed deftly on the rail, hair falling in his green eyes. She smiled that smile that was reserved specifically for Chat Noir. The one that meant some good banter and mischief was about to occur. “You never can resist the call of a damsel in distress, can you?”

“What is distressing you tonight, Princess?” He asked, not nearly as worried as he had been the first time she’d called out for him months ago. 

“I’ve been banished to my room until morning,” she sighed dramatically.

“Grounded? That doesn’t seem like you.”

“I had a run in with—“

“La Maîtresse?” Chat guessed.

“Yes. I let Alya drag me into her line of sight. I’ve finished all my homework and I can’t concentrate on sewing. Save me?” 

“Happily,” he dropped onto the balcony and stretched his limbs. “Do you want to help me puzzle out this mess with La Maîtresse?”

“Yes,” Marinette answered at once. Laying down a plan with Chat was just what she needed, even if she was in her civilian form. She ushered him inside and sat on her rolling chair. Chat, as always, made for the bed. He grabbed the large stuffie at the head and kneaded it into position before settling down with it as a support for his torso as he lay on his stomach.

“Your feet had better be clean,” she warned him.

“I’m always squeaky clean, I can assure you.” 

“If you start bathing yourself, I’m kicking you out.”

“You’re pawsitively hilarious, Princess.”

“I know.” Already, Marinette felt better. Solitary confinement was not for her, that was for sure. Chat debriefed her on his and Ladybug’s run-in with La Maîtresse this morning. Marinette hardly listened. No need; she’d been there. Not that he knew it. 

Instead, her mind wondered back to the first night she and Chat had met like this. It had been more instinct than anything. She’d noticed him leaping about late at night and before she’d known it, she was calling his name. She’d worried for him, for the reason he was out so late. It was natural; Chat was Ladybug’s best friend, and Ladybug was Marinette. She hadn’t meant to call his name, much less for him to actually hear it and answer to her. But she was glad he had. Sure, that night had been a disaster. He’d refused to believe that something wasn’t terribly wrong and had insisted on staying to make sure she was fine. A lot of awkward small talk had followed. But it hadn’t been long before Marinette summoned that streak through the Paris skyline again. And again. And again. It was nice, getting to know Chat Noir outside of superhero duties. Outside of his silly infatuation with Ladybug. Now, it was rare for them to go even a week without a late night get together.

“The odd thing is,” Chat was saying, “she doesn’t de-age every adult. There seems to be more to it than just re-raising an entire generation.”

“Interesting,” Marinette spun in her chair. “Maybe it’s more personal? Like, if someone annoys her, they get hit with the de-aging blast?”

“Could be, but I feel like it’s more rational than the typical akumatized person. Remember your grandma?”

“How could I forget?”

“She turned people based on how much she liked them, but it was really easy to flip her feelings and get on her bad side. That’s how most akumas are.”

“And La Maîtresse isn’t like that?”

“No, I don’t think so. I saw a woman in the park throw her purse at La Maîtresse and tell her to stay away from her son. The purse hit pretty solidly, which should be more than enough to earn her a punishment, you know?”

“La Maîtresse left the mother alone?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder if…Well, what if she’s almost rational about who she turns? Like, if you’re an awful person you get de-aged, but if you’re a good person, or a good parent, she leaves you alone?”

“Good theory, Princess!” Chat said, leaping up from his position to pace. Marinette knew this meant he was putting something together. “Did you know that most adults that have been de-aged were either without children, or had kids older than ten? And any parents who were de-aged had a spouse who was  _not_  de-aged. That’s different than The Bubbler, who got rid of  _all_  adults.”

“Plus any kids who didn’t do what he wanted,” Marinette added.

“Exactly! It’s like she’s trying to just take all the bad people and raise them again.”

“Teach them better,” Marinette said, understanding where Chat was going. “So they turn out as better people when they grow up.”

“What would I do without you?” Chat beamed, and Marinette laughed. They’d solved the mystery.


	4. An Almost Kissable Cat

La Maîtresse stacked up to be just about the hardest villain Ladybug and Chat Noir and ever faced. She was elusive, hiding her large class away in various places and not reemerging until days later. Not to mention that every time Ladybug or Chat got near her, she’d teacher-voice them away. Her antics got increasingly frustrating, and Paris was growing evermore anxious. 

“It’s the longest anyone has stayed akumatized in the entire history of Hawkmoth!” Alya was telling Marinette before history.

“Not to mention she doesn’t care at all about Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Adrien said, turning to join the conversation. Marinette’s heart skipped. 

“I know for a fact that Hawkmoth is impossible to resist,” Alya said.

“For real,” Nino agreed. “He gets in your head and makes you want those miraculous. I don’t know how she’s resisting him.”

“It’s strange,” Marinette nodded. “I think that her disinterest in them is half the reason she’s so hard to get rid of.”

“Yeah, absolutely. She just sends them away whenever they get near her and no amount of sound blocking seems to drown out her voice.” Adrien started ticking off failed attempts on his fingers, “they tried ear plugs, noise canceling headphones, loud music, but nothing worked.”

“Wait, so what’s the other half of the reason she’s still around?” Nino asked Marinette.

“Well, she’s not exactly…causing harm? I mean, she’s not destroying Paris, and the people she’s turning to kids aren’t a big enough portion of the population to cause immediate damage. There aren’t kids left without care, there aren’t any burning buildings, just—overall, there’s not a lot of chaos.”

“Maybe not,” Alya said skeptically, “but she’s still no good.”

“Oh! No, of course, I wasn’t saying that she’s  _good_  I was just—”

“Saying that she’s not the  _worst,_ ” Adrien finished. 

“Yeah,” Marinette said, relieved to have backup. 

“I guess Hawkmoth must have his hands full with her, anyway,” Nino shrugged. “No new akumas rampaging daily.”

“For now,” Alya said. “Well, I hope Ladybug and Chat Noir figure something out soon. The Ladyblog's running pretty dry.” 

“Me too,” Marinette sighed. A whole week fighting the same akuma. She and Chat must be losing their touch.

“Enough of that, though,” Alya said, a gleam in her eye that Marinette had long ago learned to dread. “Adrien, do you have lunch plans?”

“Not really, I was just going to catch up on some homework and stuff.”

“Perfect, Marinette needs help with our physics assignment, but Nino and I have a date this afternoon so I can’t be her study buddy…”

 _Oh no_ , Marinette could see where this was going, and she resented Alya for it. She hadn’t even mentioned needing help with physics!

“Oh, really? We can work on it together, Marinette. If you don’t mind?” He gave her that adorable shrug and smile combo of his.

“No—yeah, that could be fool—cool. Yes, if you don’t mind, uh, helping me I’d really like…appreciate it…?” Her face was redder than Ladybug’s mask, and the army of butterflies in her stomach were enough to take on Hawkmoth right then and there. But she had to admit that spending the whole lunch period with Adrien would be amazing. Alya gave Marinette a wink as class started, and she found herself smiling back.

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

“I just don’t understand,” Marinette moaned, face planted in her physics textbook.

 

“Which part is giving you trouble?” Adrien asked, patient and kind as always.

“All of it! Physics is nonsense. It’s all fake.”

“That’s not true, Marinette,” Adrien laughed. “It’s all based in math, really.”

“Ugh. It’s magic.”

“Not at all.  _Ladybug_  is magic, physics is science.”

“Same thing,” she mumbled into her book.

“No, see, if you just learn the basic equations that pop up all the time you can make sense of it really easily.”

“Sure, I could memorize some equations and learn when to apply them, but that doesn’t make them make sense,” she protested. “Plug in the right equation and you get the right answer, just like magic! I don’t understand the reason behind it at all!”

“At least physics you can see,” Adrien said. “Chemistry is the real magic of the science world. Physics is much easier to get than chem.”

“Nuh-uh,” Marinette sat up to face him, ignoring the way the page of her textbook clung to her face and almost ripped. “Chemistry makes sense. Plus, it’s cool.”

“Ah, I’ve found the problem!” Adrien said, triumphant.

“What?”

“You,” he pointed dramatically at Marinette, “are a chemistry person.”

“Yeah…?” 

“The world is made up of socially constructed binaries,” Adrien started, and, at once, Marinette was lost. “Boys and girls. Gay and straight. Dog people and cat people. Art nuts and math nuts. Jocks and nerds. All of those are things people made up in order to organize and make sense of society at large. They’re all presented as boxes when they’re really spectrums.” He paused, and Marinette nodded hesitantly, though she didn’t know where this was coming from or going to. “In all the world, there is only one true binary. Chemistry people and physics people. You’re either one or the other. It’s not your fault physics doesn’t make sense; your brain is wired to reject all things physics and only understand chemistry.”

Marinette stared blankly, then burst out laughing. “That might be the longest, most unnecessary explanation for such a completely stupid point that I have ever heard!” Adrien grinned at her.

“Come on, let’s try this again now that you’re in a better mood.”  


It was stupid, but for the first time in half an hour, Marinette realized who she was talking to. Adrien Agreste, the love of her life, was sitting next to her. Helping her with homework. Telling silly stories to make her laugh. It was easy to talk with him when she forgot she was talking to  _him_. All her words left her, and the butterflies in her stomach rose once again.  _Here we go_ , Marinette braced herself for the embarrassment she was bound to inflict on herself within the next couple of moments. 

As it turned out, she didn’t have time to make a fool of herself.

“Adrien!” Nino ran up to them, huffing and doubling over once he reached their table. “Are…are you…” He held up a finger, begging a moment to catch his breath. Marinette and Adrien exchanged glances in alarm. 

“Where’s Alya?” Marinette’s heart dropped to her stomach, crushing the butterflies and replacing them with dread. Had something happened to Alya? Nino waved a hand, dismissive. 

“Adrien, I need to tell you something,” Nino had finally regained his composure and his tone could mean nothing good.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Adrien was on his feet in a heartbeat, obviously worried.

“Alya and I were hunting for La Maîtresse—romantic, I know—and we found her…Adrien, she was by your house.”

“I don’t…”

“Your dad, Bro. She took your dad.” Nino looked like it pained him to deliver the bad news. Marinette shot to her feet, lurching forward, intending to find a place to transform. She should be out there looking for La Maîtresse right now. She needed to get Adrien his dad back. 

The look on Adrien’s face stopped her dead. His eyes were wide in shock, then his brow crumpled in confusion, and then something flashed behind his eyes. Something she couldn’t name. Grief? Anger? 

Her hand reached out without permission, landing lightly on Adrien’s shoulder.

“It will be okay,” she whispered. “Ladybug and Chat Noir will get him back safe. I promise.”

“I know,” he gave a humorless laugh before shrugging both Marinette and Nino off. He grabbed his bag and left. He wasn’t in any of their classes that afternoon.

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

Chat came over that night, a  _tap-tap_  at the window indicating his rare un-summoned arrival. He was concerned he’d catch her at a bad time if he weren’t explicitly invited over. Sweet, but unwarranted. The only truly ‘bad time’ he could come at would be when she had to don her spots. But, of course, if her spots where on, he’d be by her—Ladybug’s—side. 

“Come on in, Chaton,” she said absently. He climbed in, graceful as always. 

"You’re in my spot,” he accused. 

“You mean I’m in my bed?” 

“Like I said, my spot.” He grinned and Marinette threw the elongated cat stuffie at him with a laugh. 

“Figure it out,” she said, pointing to the various spots he could occupy. 

“Fine then, I will.” He plopped down with his pillow and turned his eyes back up to Marinette. She had to admit, it felt odd to be in this configuration. Often, she was sewing while they talked and he lounged up here on the bed. Chat’s eyes snagged on something before they found her, however.  _Merde._  The blood drained from Marinette’s face and she propelled herself off her bed and onto the main level of her room. It was too late. Chat’s eyes were affixed to what Marinette had long ago dubbed her Wall of Shame. There, in the corner her sewing machine lived in, under her bed was the collection of photos she’d accumulated over the years and had been unable to throw out. Photos all featuring one Adrien Agreste. 

“Not a word, Kitty,” she warned Chat, embarrassment oozing off of her by the bucketload. 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” he squeaked.  

That’s unusual, she noted. Chat was not the easily abashed type, especially over such prime teasing territory. “Just…uhm, why…?” 

“I thought you weren’t gonna say anything,” Marinette grumbled, settling down on the floor next to him. “Why do you think, Chat?” She sighed. 

“You…uh…you like this guy?” 

“Yeah,” she let out a breath. Really, it wasn’t so bad admitting it. Chat seemed more flustered than she was, which made the conversation more bearable. “I’ve liked him since forever, which is pathetic since I’m not even sure we’re friends, you know? I just get so muddled up when I try to talk to him.” 

“I’m sure you’re friends,” he said hesitantly. “I mean, you’re a great friend. No way he’d pass up the opportunity to be friends with you, no matter how…muddled you get.” 

“Thanks Chat,” she smiled. “I know this looks like I’m a stalker creep-o,” she hurried to explain, noticing his continued interest in the Adrien photos. “But I just can’t throw them away, any more than I can throw my feelings for him away.” 

“I get it,” he said, finally turning away from the photos and towards Marinette. “I have Ladybug plastered all over my room,” he laughed. “Lame as it is, I’m still hopelessly in love with my teen idol crush.” 

“I guess,” Marinette said, fidgeting at his casual declaration of love for her—for Ladybug. “We’re in the same boat, huh?” 

“Seems like it.” 

“It’s hard to like someone who’s so unattainable. Adrien is too perfect for me to ever be worthy of, you know?” 

“Don’t do that,” Chat surprised her with the sharpness in his voice. “Don’t cut yourself short, Marinette. You’re not unworthy—of anyone—and especially not of Adrien Agreste.” 

“And what does that mean? Do you even know Adrien?” Marinette couldn’t help but get defensive. 

“No one is perfect, Marinette.” 

“What, not even Ladybug?” 

"No, but that doesn’t mean she’s any less amazing.” 

“Yeah, well, Adrien’s amazing too, even if he’s not perfect,” she shot back. 

“Sure,” he sounded doubtful, though. “My point is that you’re amazing Marinette, and any guy would be lucky to hold your affections. You’re not unworthy, okay? Don’t think that way. Please.” 

Marinette’s anger softened. She’d been caught up thinking Chat was attacking Adrien, but he’d really just meant to defend her. Her, not Ladybug, but Marinette. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’re pretty great, too, Chaton,” she whispered. She wished she could give him more, that Ladybug could return his feelings. He deserved them, but her heart had other plans.  

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

“If we don’t do something about La Maîtresse soon we might be booted off Super Hero Island,” Chat groused during patrol. 

__“I’m aware of that, thanks Chat.” Ladybug scowled at the city, as if by simple virtue of superhero intimidation Paris itself would reveal her prize. No such luck._ _

__“Seriously, people are saying we’re incapable, Bugaboo! Us! Can you believe it?”_ _

__“Yeah, it’s bad, I know.” She rubbed at her temples tiredly. Sleep had been even more elusive than normal as of late. “Even worse because of her recent disappearance…if we can’t get rid of her before she’s sighted again…it’ll be bad news.”_ _

__Alya had, unfortunetly, shown her usual faith in the superhero duo; she’d blogged a theory that La Maîtresse had been quietly defeated after three days with no news on her whereabouts. There were, of course, huge flaws in her logic. For one, all the childized people were still missing in action, and La Maîtresse had not surfaced in civilian form. Alya had a whole page on the Ladyblog dedicated to cataloging everyone who’d ever been akumatized, complete with timeline, motive, and in-detail account of their take-down. But it seemed that people were desperate for Ladybug and Chat Noir to prove themselves the heroes they’d always been known as. They’d overlook any fallacies to make sense of things in their minds._ _

__“Why hasn’t Hawkmoth turned her into his puppet yet?”_ _

__“Chat,” Ladybug said flatly, “akumatizing people does turn them into his puppet.”_ _

__“You know what I mean! Why isn’t she after us yet?”_ _

__“No clue. But we can’t worry about that. It just means we need to track her down, instead of the other way around.”_ _

__“Uh, yeah. We’ve tried that. Like, ten times.”_ _

__“This time, we’re going to locate her and map out a plan. Then go in with the element of surprise.”_ _

__“Ah, I like the way you think.”_ _

__“With any luck, there won’t be any pigeons around for you to blow our cover with.”_ _

__“It was one time,” Chat sniffed._ _

__“With sneezing out of the picture, the only thing that could hinder us is your big mouth,” she laughed, bumping her shoulder into his._ _

__“Hey, I’ll have you know that—wait!” A grin was growing across Chat’s face._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“Big mouth! We keep trying to block out her voice, but what if we stop the sound at the source?”_ _

__“Chat! I think you’re on to something, I could just k—” Ladybug stopped short. She’d learned the hard way that saying such things as ‘I could just kiss you’ to Chat Noir would bring nothing but trouble. The damn cat knew it wasn’t meant literally, but he liked to pretend that it was. She cleared her throat, ignoring his dirt-eating grin. “We catch her off guard and gag her, then find the akuma and end it. It’s a solid plan.”_ _

__“All that’s left is to find her and pull it all off.”_ _

____


	5. An Old Camera

Gabriel Agreste’s disappearance was the gossip of the city. Alya, Nino, and Gabriel’s staff were the only eye witnesses to the events that had transpired.

“I feel bad,” Alya told Marinette, lounging on the floor with a pillow as Marinette worked on mending a shirt for her. “I mean, I’m the press, for Chat’s sake! It’s my job—my very  _obligation_ —to tell the public what’s going on. But instead I’m letting my city fall to panic and gossip.”

“And tell me again why you decided to withhold your information on the kidnapping?” Marinette stopped stitching to inspect her work.

“Because it would hurt Adrien,” Alya sighed. “I couldn’t do that to him. He’s my friend! Using his dad’s disappearance for publicity or even to let everyone know the truth just doesn’t feel right.”

“You have a good heart, Alya. Once this whole La Maîtresse mess is over with you can give an exclusive on what happened and why you didn’t feel it right to disclose it at the time.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alya adjusted positions. “I wonder how Adrien’s doing.  _Really_ doing, you know?”

“Yeah, I wish there was something I could do.”  _Other than catching that crazy teacher._

“Not even Nino can get him to talk much about it.”

“Really?” That surprised Marinette. Adrien had acted normal enough at school, albeit even quieter and more closed in than usual, but he wasn’t displaying the fear he must’ve felt. Everyone knew he must be having a hard time, but he refused to let it show. Two days worrying about your only parent would reduce anyone to an emotional wreck. Anyone but Adrien Agreste, that was. But Marinette had just assumed he was too private to let the public see his worry. She’d expected him to be talking with Nino about it, at least.

“I think he just knows Ladybug and Chat Noir will save his dad, but Nino thinks there’s more to it…”

 _Tap-tap-tap_. Alya trailed off, looking around for the source of the sound. Marinette froze. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing! A bird! Or a stray cat?” Marinette stood fast and pulled Alya upright, too. “Here,” she shoved the shirt in Alya’s hands and started pushing her to the door.

“Marinette, what is going on?” 

“Sorry, Alya, I forgot I need to do a…uh physics project! For extra credit, you know? Due tomorrow and I haven’t started! Need to get to work, I hope you understand!” 

Alya was down the hatch, and she looked up at Marinette with a bemused expression. “Right. Physics, I’m  _so_  sure.”

“Yep, bye!” She shut the door, then dashed to her window. Chat Noir sat perched outside, for the third night in a row. She scrambled to let him in.

“Did I come at a bad time?” He asked, slinking into the room.

“No, of course not. I was just sewing.” If she turned Chat away, she was sure he’d be scared off forever. He was flighty that way, something Ladybug had never noticed. But Marinette certainly did. She saw the way he interacted with the world; detached and light and flirty. Fleeting. Impermanent. It had taken a lot of coaxing to make him as comfortable with Marinette as he was with Ladybug. She wasn’t about to lose all that progress, even if it meant she’d have some major sucking up to do later. She owed Alya something big.

“Glad to hear it, Princess.” The grin on his face gave away his intent to do something. You never knew what exactly, but it would be something the cat found funny, impressive, or some mix of the two.

“What is it?” She asked slowly, eyeing him. He pulled out an old camera from behind his back.

“ _Voilà!_ ”

“It’s a…camera? What is that for?”

“Taking pictures!”

“Okay, let me try this again. Why do we need that?”

“To take pictures, what else?”

“Chat, why are we taking pictures?”

“Well, I thought that since we both have pictures we can’t throw out, we could, you know, cover them up?”

“With pictures of…” a smile was inching its way across Marinette’s face,“of us?”

“Yeah! What better way to get over doomed love than with a good friend in the same furry situation?”

“You’re ridiculous, Chaton.” She grabbed the camera from him and snapped a picture before he had time to react. The camera, to her surprise and delight, spat out the image right away. She gingerly took it between fingers and shook it out. It was a great picture. Chat looked surprised and goofy and happy. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

“No! You can’t have that one!” He grabbed for it, but she was quicker.

“Why not? It’ll help me get over Adrien. How could I concentrate on his beautiful face when _this_ ,” she waved the picture in front of his nose, “silly face is around?” With that, she tacked the photo to her Wall of Shame, partially covering a poster of Adrien.

She may have won the battle, but the war was far from over. Chat tackled her, taking picture after picture of her as she wrestled him half heartedly, too caught up in laughing to really fight. 

“You may  _not_  put these on your wall,” she gasped between bouts of laughter. The pictures Chat had taken of her were terrible. Not only were half of them blurry, but her hair was a mess, her face was red from the struggle, and the angles were entirely unflattering.

“Oh, they are so going on my wall, Princess. Every. Single. One.”

“This is pay back, isn’t it?”

“Purr-cisely,” he grinned at her, then pulled her to him in a half-side-hug-half-head-lock and snapped a picture of them together. The camera spat out the image and Marinette made an incredibly stupid sound, like a snort-wheeze-laugh hybrid. 

“You are unbelievably skilled,” she couldn’t keep her face straight. He’d managed to capture nothing but the very tops of their heads.

“I know, I’ve been on the wrong side of the camera all these years!”

“Don’t quit your day job,” laughter was spilling out of her, and she doubled over into Chat’s chest, unable to stand upright. 

“Quit being Chat Noir? No way, do you have any idea what superheroes get paid?”

“Nothing!” She swatted at him.  _Why is this so funny_? She didn’t know, but that didn’t stop her from laughing.

“Actually, It’s about negative €10 a day, give or take.”

“What? Do you have to bribe people to let you save them?”

“Not exactly. I’ve got to bribe my kwami with Camembert to suit up.”

“Oh, of course, I should’ve guessed. So, in summary, you have to pay to be a superhero but it’s still a more profitable career path than photography.”

He laughed, and after a moment Marinette straightened herself, recovering, somewhat, from her fit of giggles. Chat looked so pleased. Like a cat that’d caught the canary. She wondered how often people actually laughed at his jokes. He had a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Marinette scooped up the camera, which had been discarded on the seat of her sewing chair, and captured that look for her wall.

“No fair,” he protested. “That was a sneak attack!”

“But it’s a good one,” she said pointedly. And it was. “You know Chat, you’re actually pretty photogenic.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“Hmm,” she tacked up her new photos and nodded, satisfied. “Now, let’s get some real pictures of us together.”

And they did. She and Chat each collected a sizable stack of photos for their respective walls, and they laughed all the while. Marinette had been so worried lately, about La Maîtresse, her public image, and Adrien—well, Adrien’s dad—and it was nice, so so so nice to wind down with Chat, the one other person in the world who could understand her unique worries. 

Marinette yawned happily, and Chat stopped talking mid-sentence. “It’s late,” he said.

“Not that late,” Marinette glanced at the clock. Only ten. 

“I should let you get some rest,” and he stood, ignoring Marinette’s protests. She let him help her to her feet and walked him to the balcony. 

“See you tomorrow?” She asked as he climbed onto the railing.

“Yeah,” he smiled at her. “And…thanks.”

“For what?”

“Being with me, I guess. It’s been a rough couple of days for me, but hanging with you makes all the bad stuff seem more fixable.” She saw in his eyes that something deeper than La Maîtresse was bothering him, something he hadn’t shared with her or Ladybug. But she didn’t press it.

“Yeah, I think I know what you mean. Sometimes I feel like I’m a marionette with all my strings pulled too tight, but with you, all those strings loosen enough for me to breath.”

“Cats have a special affinity with strings,” he noted sagely, and Marinette shook her head with a smile.

“Good night, Chaton.”

“Night, Princess.”

He hopped off, vaulting from rooftop to rooftop, a bundle of pictures clutched safely in his hand. It occurred to her that there was some irony in those pictures. They would cover up photos and posters that, to Chat, represented a hopeless crush. But he had no idea that the subject of many of those pictures was the very same person as in those they would eclipse.  



	6. A Troubling Take-Down

Ladybug crept towards the old hospital-turned-museum, which was closed for renovations the city hadn’t had time to fulfill. There’d been rumors of strange activity here the last few days. Allegedly, there was a woman who was frequently seen around the old building, often with a child or two in tow. There was no solid ID on her, but she was reported to wear long skirts, a long coat, and a headscarf. It smelled of disguise to Ladybug, so she’d come to check it out.

There was no proof, per se, that La Maîtresse was here, but it was the best lead she had. A noise came from inside the building and Ladybug flattened herself against the wall. The main door creaked open and a child with light blond hair and blue-grey eyes poked his head out. He looked oddly familiar to Ladybug, but she couldn’t place him. 

“Gabriel,” a stern voice sounded from the hall behind the boy. “Please come and join the class, young man.”

Gabriel. Ladybug’s jaw slackened. Here was Gabriel Agreste, reverted to a child. No wonder he looked familiar.  _And that means…_  A woman in a long Starry Night skirt and black blouse appeared in the doorway, gently taking the young boy’s shoulder. Though a patterned head scarf hid her colorful hair, Ladybug had no doubts about who this lady was. La Maîtresse. 

“I wanna play!” Gabriel whined as La Maîtresse steered him back inside.

“There will be time for play later. Do you see any of the other children leaving circle time?” She scolded, and Gabriel let the door fall shut. 

Ladybug’s heart thumped. She’d located La Maîtresse  _and_   Adrien’s dad. She quickly vacated the property, determined to track down Chat Noir and finally put their plan into action.

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

“Took you long enough,” Ladybug accused when Chat fell into place beside her. 

“Much as I’d love to be available for you 24/7, some of us have jobs, M’lady.”

“Please, who would hire you?” 

“I’m wounded. You say you found La Maîtresse?”

“Yeah, in the old hospital.”

“I’ve got the duct tape.”

“Let’s do this!” They nodded at each other, then they made for the old hospital. La Maîtresse had been childizing ‘bad’ adults and collecting them for over a month. A month. Usually akumas were dealt with in a day, so this was a new experience for both her and Chat. But at least they were finally going to take her down.

They came to a stop by the brick building and listened for a moment. 

“Save Lucky Charm until we’re desperate,” Chat advised. Ladybug nodded.

“Try not to get caught by her teacher-voice, okay?” Ladybug watched anxiously as Chat flashed her a grin and snuck to the door. They’d elected to have him go in first, alone, and use stealth to gag La Maîtresse with duct tape. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was all they had. 

“It’s bed-time, maybe she’ll be asleep.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

“Yeah, that’d be too convenient, huh?”

“Good luck.”

He slipped inside the building and Ladybug held her breath, listening closely for any sounds of a struggle. Minutes ticked by without a peep and then—

“Mmmph!” A muffled sound, loud but indistinguishable, rang out through a window on the top floor.  _Chat’s done it!_  Ladybug used her yo-yo as a grappling hook and climbed straight in the offending window. Chat was pinned to the wall by his tail with dinky child scissors, of all things, and La Maîtresse was struggling with the duct tape that was wrapped around her head, covering her mouth.

“Aren’t you glad you’re wearing that head scarf?” Ladybug called, taking La Maîtresse’s attention away from freeing her voice. She shot a glare at Ladybug, then grabbed a handful of crayons from the table adorned with craft supplies and rolled them down the floor in rapid succession, making it incredibly hard for Ladybug to approach La Maîtresse by foot without tripping. 

“I guess we’ll do this the hard way,” Ladybug mumbled. “Chat, where do you think the akuma is?”

“My best guess is her necklace,” Chat called from the wall. He was attempting to get free from the scissors.

“Thanks!” Using the support beam on the ceiling, Ladybug swung herself across the room, landing squarely on La Maîtresse. The woman grunted, then produced hand-sanitizer from her pocket and poised to squirt it in Ladybug’s eyes. Ladybug clamped her eyes shut, preparing for the sting, but it didn’t come. She peeked an eye open to see La Maîtresse lowering the hand sanitizer in what looked like defeat. Ladybug didn’t stop to consider what trap La Maîtresse might be planning. She snatched the necklace from La Maîtresse’s neck and pulled apart the twine it was made of. Large plastic beads slipped of the strand and tumbled to the floor. And a small black butterfly rose up from the wreckage. 

Ladybug stood, pulling out her yo-yo. She saw Chat from the corner of her eye; he’d finally just taken off his tail. 

“Get it!” Chat whooped, triumphant.

She captured the akuma, “Time to de-evilize!”

Something was wrong. She saw the white butterfly fly away, but the world was spinning; changing. She felt a tightness in her bones and a pounding in her head.

“What…?” A woman’s voice asked, groggy. La Maîtresse? Ladybug felt sick and she knew that something was fundamentally messed up. She turned and ran. Chat grabbed her hand and they ran from the building together.  _I’m going to puke…_  

Everything went black.  



	7. A Might be Playdate

Marinette woke up. She was huddled up against a musty wall. A warm body pressed against her loosely. She groggily shifted around, intending to fall back asleep when several things occurred to her.

Why was she sleeping on the floor in a dusty room she didn’t recognize?

Why was there someone else sleeping with her?

And  _what_  had happened?

She should be Ladybug, she realized. She  _had_  been Ladybug, had just defeated La Maîtresse. Everything should have turned back to normal. She whipped a hand in front of her face, intending to check for her spotted Ladybug suit. It wasn’t covering her hand. But that was the least of her worries. Tiny fingers wiggled in front of her eyes. They obeyed her. They felt like hers. But they  _couldn’t_  be hers. Horrified, she let the hand drop from her vision and instead used it to examine her face. Soft, rounded features with a layer of softer baby fat greeted her touch. She looked down at herself slowly, fearing the worst, and let out a yelp. She’d known, really, before looking down, but the surprised yelp escaped her lips.

“What—?!” Next to her, a blond mess of hair sprang up. The boy looked around—for danger, presumably—then his eyes found Marinette. Brilliant green eyes. Marinette yelped again, pouncing on the boy, hands finding his eyes and covering them firmly. She pressed her own shut.

“Don’t look!” Was all she could think to say.

“What the—who are you?” 

“Chat, it’s me! It’s Ladybug, but something’s gone wrong. So, so wrong.”

“Oh. Oh no.” He settled down, no longer straining to get free of her improvised blindfold. “Okay, my eyes are closed,” he gently peeled her palms off his face. They sat in silence like that for a moment, Chat loosely holding Marinette’s wrists, eyes clamped shut. 

“We should—I don’t know…figure this out?” Marinette marveled at the higher pitch her voice came out in.

“Yeah…Yeah, absolutely. Why did we turn into—hey! What’re you laughing about?”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette managed to quell her quiet giggling. “It’s just your voice…it’s so small and squeaky like a—,” laughter drowned out her punch line, but she fought it down. “You sound like a mouse, Chat!” 

“Really? That was a bad joke and a low blow,” but his voice betrayed the smile he must be wearing. Even distorted by age, Marinette knew Chat’s voice and mannerisms well enough to know he was amused. 

“Okay, so,” she put on her serious business voice. “We need to hide the evidence.”

“Evidence of what? Did we kill someone? Is there a dead body here that you expect me to bury?”

“No,” Marinette almost laughed at the thought of two kids trying to hide a body. “No, listen, our clothes. We’re in civilian form, Chat. I can’t have you recognizing any of my belongings and knowing who I am.”

“Are you saying I know your civilian form?” If he’d had his cat ears on right then, Marinette was sure they’d have perked up.

“You run around saving the city everyday; you know everyone in Paris. Enough for me to worry you’d recognize me. And, honestly, the same can be said about you. I might know who you are based on whatever you wore today before transforming. Then we’d have even more problems to deal with.”

“Alright, fine. Let’s destroy the evidence.”

“Don’t you dare peek,” Marinette warned.

“I would never!” Chat protested, sounding hurt.

“I know,” she said, quietly enough that she wasn’t sure he heard. 

Marinette felt around blindly, collecting all her stuff. She folded her pants and jacket, hiding certain undergarments in the folds. She didn’t need Chat accidentally catching a glimpse of  _those_. It was one thing for him to recognize her signature style, quite another to know she was wearing Chat Noir patterned undies on top of discovering her secret identity. He’d never let her live it down. Yeah, no. She tucked the clothes and her flats away behind a box full of dusty light bulbs, then got to work on her shirt. Luckily, she never left home without an emergency sewing kit. She didn’t have time for a full modification, but with some scissors and seam-glue she was able to transform her over-long shirt into a cute dress. She added her purse to her pile of belongings, but held on to her translucent and pink-rimmed sewing kit. For the finishing touch, she pulled the matching red ribbons from her hair. She used one as a belt, and looped the other around her head for a headband. That should be enough to throw Chat of her scent. She hoped.

“Are you done?” Marinette asked, back still turned away from Chat’s half of the room. He laughed.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve been done for like fifteen minutes. You good?”

“Yep.”

They turned, finally, to face each other. Marinette registered the shock on Chat Noir’s face but didn’t have time to analyze its meaning.

“You look ridiculous!” She said without thinking. He had not gone to great lengths in modifying his outfit. He stood with messy hair, as always, and a white button up that came down to his toes, sleeves sloppily rolled up to allow him to use his hands. 

“You look amazing,” he gawked at her. “Seriously, how did you pull that off? Do you have some sort of magic you’re not sharing with me?”

“Only the magic of being prepared,” she winked at him, brandishing her small sewing bag. Chat snorted.

“So, M’lady, what’s the next step of our plan?” 

“Don’t flirt with me, please,” Marinette grumbled. “It’s unnerving when a five year old sweet talks you.”

“Excuse you, but I’m at least six.”

“Either way, it’s an issue.” Marinette paused to think. “We need to find La Maîtresse.”

“You think she’ll know how to fix this?” He gestured down at himself.

“No. I doubt she’ll even know why this happened. And, on top of that, akumatized people usually don’t regain their full memory for a couple days.”

“Okay, so why find her then?”

“We don’t have a better plan. Maybe we’ll find something. I don’t know.” Marinette shrugged.

”Yeah, alright. Let’s track this teacher down.”

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

“You know,” Chat said as they walked down the street. “I changed my mind. If I’m going to be doing  _anything_ , I’m gonna need some pants.”

“What, you don’t carry around child sized pants at all times?”

“I’m serious. I need pants.”

“And where are we supposed to get pants?” Marinette stopped, exasperated, to face Chat.

“A store,” Chat suggested.

“What store is going to sell to unaccompanied and unsupervised kids?”

“Point. I’ll just take some, then.”

“Chat!” 

“Give me two minutes,” he grinned at her, then bounded off. She made a strangled noise, holding in a shout, and ran after him.

“Chat, we’re superheroes! Public figures of goodness and justice! We can’t just take things!”

“Even protectors of justice need pants, M’lady.”

“Chat!”

“I’m just gonna borrow a pair. I’ll return them later, with a curtesy fee. Not like I’ll have any use for them once I’m normal sized, anyway.” With that, he slipped into a shop. Marinette froze, recognizing the shopfront. 

“No,” she whispered, “Oh no no no no.” Today was not her day. Chat was about to go steal from Gabriel Agreste. The designer Marinette admired most in the world and Adrien’s dad. Adrien would never forgive her if he found out she’d condoned theft from his father’s store. Before she could even go in after him, Chat reemerged. He had a bundle tucked up under his shirt and a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Come on, let’s get going,” he said it casually, as if he didn’t have a lumpy belly of stolen goods.

“I do not approve of your actions,” she informed him grumpily. 

“Yeah, sure, I know.” He didn’t sound concerned. 

“Fine.” She sniffed, then started walking. “We’re going to the library.” She expected a protest, but Chat just fell into step beside her. He pulled her to the family restrooms as soon as they entered the library.

“Here,” he said, letting his prizes fall from his shirt. “I grabbed you some shoes.”

“I am not wearing stolen shoes.”

“Aw, come on, LB. Paris is a great city, but the streets aren’t exactly clean. Wear the shoes?” He presented her with impossibly cute navy blue combat boots, adorned with flowers and complete with pink ribbons for laces. Her resolve melted.

“I’m still not happy with you,” she informed him as she tugged the boots on. Chat laughed, pulling on cuffed skinny jeans. She hadn’t even known they made skinny jeans for five year olds. He tucked his overlarge button up into the waist band and completed the look with a pair of black loafers.  _Loafers and skinny jeans_ ,Marinette almost snickered.

“Is this how you dress all the time?”

“Certainly,” he said dryly. “I only ever buy shirts in XXXL. It can be hard to find them that large, you know, but it’s the only way to pull off the look.”

“The funny thing is,” Marinette mused. “You pull it off. Maybe it’s the baby face, but I’m tempted to say you look cute.”

Chat’s face lit up like a cherry red christmas light. Marinette laughed. She trotted out of the bathroom, leaving Chat dumbfounded and alone for a moment before he followed. 

Marinette sat down and logged into one of the library’s public computers.

“Playing educational video games?” Chat asked. “I guess that’s one way to draw out a teacher.”

“No, I’m checking the Ladyblog. Alya—the girl who runs it, you know—”

“I know Alya. She’s interviewed us before.”

“Right. Well, I’m sure she’ll have sniffed out our victory yesterday. Likely, she’s got interviews with all the people involved already and, hopefully…” Marinette clicked around the Ladyblog, looking for the right page. “Aha! A list of all the akumatized villains. And La Maîtresse is at the top of the list.”

“You’re brilliant!” Chat praised.

“No,  _Alya’s_  brilliant.”

“You can both be brilliant.”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, but smiled. “It says here that La Maîtresse’s name is Jacqueline, and she’s a preschool teacher.”

“As the name La Maîtresse would suggest.”

“And the reason she got akumatized is because…she saw a parent treating their kid poorly. ‘She refused to say more on the subject, for her student’s safety, but assures me that she’s reported the parent to the proper authorities,’” Marinette read.

“Wow, I guess I’d get pretty upset too, if I saw a kid getting hurt or whatever by the person who ought to protect them.”

“Yeah…It certainly explains why she only targeted parents and adults who were…less than great.” 

Something flashed behind Chat’s green eyes. The look sparked a memory but she couldn’t quite rekindle the flame of the old memory. 

“And why she refused to hurt us,” Chat said quietly, distracting Marinette from his pain-stricken eyes.

“She wouldn’t even squirt hand sanitizer in my eyes,” Marinette recounted. “She knew I’d win if she didn’t, but even at the end she cared more about protecting kids than anything.”

“Maybe we should have just let her be,” the darkness in Chat’s eyes was back. “Let her raise those people to be better adults. Better parents.”

“Chat…” Marinette wasn’t sure what to say to that. Obviously, Jacqueline had been in the wrong, stealing people from their lives and turning them into kids, no matter how well intentioned she’d been. Chat’s morose expression scared her. More than La Maîtresse ever had. It scared her in the way his late night wondering scared her. The way his reluctance to solidly exist in anyone else’s lives scared her. 

“You know,” she broached, tentative. “It’s not often we get an opportunity like this.”

“What?”

“We’re not superheroes right now. No masks or responsibilities. We’re just…civilians. When can we ever hang out together when we’re both just regular people? Well, regular five year olds, in any case.”

“Are you suggesting we go on a date?” Chat asked, grin mercifully, wonderfully, back in place. It was Marinette’s turn to go bright red.

“No! I just meant we could hang out. Before we sort this all out. A couple of hours couldn’t hurt, right?”

“So, a  _play_ date?” 

“Shut up.”

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

Marinette’s morals were definitely looser than they’d been when she’d woken up. She and Chat had snuck into a movie, stolen licorice from the person next to them, and begged cotton candy off a street vendor. She would have a lot of amendments to make when things were normal. But Chat Noir was happy as a cat, and that made it all justified in Marionette’s mind.

“Look!” Chat said, grabbing her hand and racing across the bridge they’d been strolling along. “Andre’s ice-cream!”

“I’m not eating magical love ice cream with you, Chat,” Marinette protested, feeling heat rise in her cheeks again. Last time she’d had Andre’s ice cream it had been after an akuma fight that she’d caused. It had also been after Ladybug had stood Chat up and he’d taken Marinette to see his surprise instead. Come to think of it,  _that_  had been their first time meeting late at night on her balcony.

“Joke’s on you,” he said, plowing onwards. “The ice cream has  _already_  promised me my true love.”

“Well, it’s promised me mine, too,” she snapped. But then they were at the cart, Andre humming happily to himself.

“Ah, come in my young lovebirds,” he smiled broadly at them, gesturing them nearer his cart.

“We don’t have money,” Marinette told him quickly.

“No matter! It is on the house, I insist.”

Marinette was tempted to run, but the last time he’d insisted on feeding her ice cream and she’d refused, bad things had happened. So she watched as he prepared them their treat.

“Green for his eyes,” Andre said, just as he’d said to Marinette two years ago, “Dark blue for her hair, and red for your love.” 

“We’re five!” Marinette protested.

“Only for now,” he said with a wink. Marinette half thought he  _knew_  what was going on. “I have waited years to combine these flavors and with them, these hearts, Ma Cherie, do not spoil an old man’s fun.”  _Okay, he definitely knows something_. 

Chat took the ice cream and thanked Andre. Marinette waved a goodbye to the man, unnerved by his seeming knowledge of her identity and predicament. Maybe he really was magic. Chat and Marinette settled on a bench and dug into their shared ice cream.

“He’s wrong,” Marinette said after a bite.

“About?”

“About joining our hearts or whatever. You’re not my green eyed prince.”

“Ouch.” She was about to apologize for being too mean. “But that’s alright, you might not be my blue haired princess, either.”

A weird pang hit Marinette in the chest. 

“I’m sure it’ll surprise you, but I’ve actually been trying to get over you.” He smiled a very small smile.  _Right_ , she thought,  _he’s been getting over me with help from, well, me._  And, she realized, she’d been slowly getting over Adrien with help from him.

“It’s hard to get over someone you’ve liked for so long,” she said aloud without thinking. He looked at her in surprise, then nodded.

“It’s like I don’t know how to not be in love with you.” 

“And then your heart gets stuck in this weird in-between place.” Marinette took another bite of ice cream. Green, like his eyes.  _Whose eyes?_  She didn’t know, couldn’t say with one hundred percent certainty who she wanted those eyes to belong to. When had that happened?  



	8. An Innocent Sleepover

Marinette yawned. The moon was rising and the air was cooling pleasantly. She’d really only meant to spend a couple hours off task, and only to cheer Chat up. Somehow, it had evolved into an all day adventure that had more to do with Marinette’s desire to spend time with Chat than anything else. 

“I know we’re supposed to be finding Jacqueline,” Chat caught Marinette’s yawn. “But I need a nap.”

“Find us a place to sleep and I’m in. Preferably, somewhere that’s not outside.”

Chat grabbed her hand and they scampered off in search for a suitable nap spot. Marinette looked down at their intertwined hands. For once, Chat’s hand was hardly bigger than her own. Oddly, his black ring still fit perfectly on his considerably smaller finger.

“Hey, Chat?” Marinette asked, something dawning on her.

“Yeah, Princess?”

“Your miraculous, is it always black with the green paw print?”

“Huh? Only when I’m transformed.” He looked at her curiously, then followed her eyes to their hands. “Oh. Well, that explains why I feel Plagg’s presence but haven’t seen him…”

“Are my earrings…?”

“Same as they always are, Ladybug.” Chat’s eyebrows furrowed. “That does create some more questions, though.”

“Why aren’t we transformed if our kwamis are in our miraculous’?”

“I wonder if it has something to do with our temporary ages?”

“Could be,” Marinette nodded. “Wait, why are we at a hotel?”

“Because it’s a great place to sleep.”

“I have a couple complaints about this idea,” she said skeptically.

“I know this place, don’t worry.” He pulled her into the lobby.

“Yeah, I know this place too. Chloe’s dad owns it. They’re not going to give a room to kids. They wouldn’t even give one to us with our normal ages!”

“Create a distraction,” he whispered, giving no more explanation than that before slipping off. She huffed, but didn’t have time to complain. She had to cover for the dumb boy.

Marinette threw herself on the floor, screaming all the way down. If there was one thing she knew from babysitting it was that nothing drew attention like a temper tantrum. Sure enough, she had every adult in the lobby gathered around her asking concerned questions in no time.

“Are you okay?”

“Where’s your mommy?”

“What’s wrong?”

She saw Chat wave a key card behind the gathered crowd, then he disappeared up the stairs.

“I’m going back to my mommy!” Marinette screamed. She tore through the worried crowd and bolted after Chat.

“A little more warning would be nice,” she scoffed after catching him.

“For you, maybe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If I give you more warning, it gives you more time to complain and second guess and try to stop me. So, nah.”

“I will throw you out a window,” she warned, but Chat just laughed as he let them into their pilfered room. Marinette hardly felt guilty as she followed Chat in. It was a beautiful room, as she’d expected it would be. But upon exploring, it became clear that there was only one bed in the whole suite. Marinette rounded on Chat, intending to tell him off. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly under her stern look. “I didn’t check which suit I was grabbing. Honest, I just took the first card I saw!” He looked so panicked that Marinette didn’t have the urge to fight him on it.

“Fine, I believe you.”

“Thank god. You take the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

Marinette stared at him for a moment. “Don’t be silly,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the large bed. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

“Are you sure, ‘cause I really don’t mind using the couch.”

“Since you didn’t orchestrate this on purpose, I don’t mind. Actually, I think it would have some nasty implications if I  _did_  mind.” She clambered onto the bed and pulled off her boots. “I’ll need to get a pair of these in my size,” she said absently.

“I don’t follow,” Chat said, still standing.

“Well, I really like them. You have great taste in footwear.”

“Uh, thanks. I thought you’d like them. Wait, no. I meant I don’t understand about the nasty implications.”

“No duh,” she laughed. “It’s just that, at the moment, we’re five. Like you’d try to pull a move on a five year old. And, more than that, it’d be an insult to you. You might be an obnoxious flirt, but I know you. You always respect my boundaries. You’re actually pretty honorable. You’d never try anything, and we both know it. So turn off the light and get in here,” she patted the bed next to her. The look on his face was one of true bafflement. It was the expression only Marinette could tease out of him. The one that meant he was utterly surprised that someone knew him— _really_  knew him. Then he did as she’d asked.

With the curtains drawn and the lights off, it was wonderfully dark in the room. Marinette snuggled further under the blankets and let her eyes drift closed. It occurred to her that she’d be in huge trouble with her parents tomorrow. She hadn’t even thought to text them a lie about being with Alya…

“I think it’s an energy thing,” Chat’s voice cut through the dark.

“Huh?” Marinette said groggily.

“Our kwamis. I think they somehow got trapped in our miraculous’ when we were turned into kids, but don’t have the energy to actually transform us into Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“Hmmm,” Marinette rolled over so she was facing in Chat’s direction. He really was a creature of the night. “Okay, fair enough. But why would our de-aging have trapped them?”

“Not a clue.”

“Mm,” Marinette said, body gravitating inwards, towards the center of the bed, where Chat’s small body weighed down the mattress. It was definitely a physics thing…stupid physics.   



	9. A Would Have Been Perfect Morning

Warm blankets cocooned Marinette and an even warmer mass pressed against her back, an arm weighing heavily—pleasantly—over her waist. She’d never experienced the precise brand of contentment that she did waking up that morning. She blinked bleary eyes, then snuggled deeper into her blankets and against the steadily rising and falling chest at her back. She noticed the low vibrating rumble that had been present all night. A constant and comforting sound that had permeated her dreams. But she hadn’t been consciously aware of it until she was  _feeling_  it more than hearing it.

He’s purring, Marinette realized, feeling the sound vibrate through her body from Chat’s larger one.  _That’s right_ , another realization struck.  _I’m in bed_  snuggling  _with Chat Noir!_  The thought gave her only temporary panic. Usually this was when she’d freak out, push Chat out of the bed or leap out herself; usually she’d scream or feel so deeply embarrassed that her entire body would go red from head to toe. But the rumble of Chat’s purr and the weight of his arm and the warmth of his body lulled her back into contentment. 

She lay there, allowing herself to fall back into sleep when she heard a yawn.

“You know, Chat,” Marinette said in that voice that only ever came out during tired and late night conversations at sleepovers. “I think I’m in love with…” beside her, Chat stilled, “your purr.”

Chat Noir groaned and sat up, shoving at her. She protested the loss of his warmth, but it was too late. She sat up too, with blankets held tightly around her, a sorry substitute for Chat’s heat, grinning. 

“That was cruel, and you know it,” he groused.

“I’m sorry, but you have a truly amazing purr, Chat,” she laughed.

“No I don’t!” He snapped. “I don’t even purr at all.”

“Uh, yeah, you do,” Marinette tapped his chest, which still emitting the sound in question, and grinned at him until his scowl lightened sufficiently. 

“Well, that’s new,” he frowned down at Marinette’s finger, still tapping. Marinette laughed again, drawing his eyes back to hers. They really were the prettiest green.

“It must be because—A—Adrien?” Her heart stopped and her brain tried desperately to reconcile the information that was right in front of her.

“Marinette?” He asked, realization and astonishment dawning on his face. 

“Oh god.” It was true. It was all real. Adrien was—right here. And he was—she couldn’t comprehend for a long moment. How could this—how had she not—? Nothing made sense. 

And then, through all the muddle in her mind, one thought cut through, clear and crisp and  _mortifying._ She yelped and pulled her blankets tighter around herself, face furiously red. 

“ _Oh,_ ” Chat—Adrien—said, eyes widening and cheeks reddening. He tugged off his rumpled button up and offered it to her before hurriedly turning away. She gratefully pulled on the shirt, then carefully arranged the blankets and sheets to make sure everything was covered at  _least_  three times. Then she gave an awkward cough.

“So, uh, I guess our age problem fixed itself,” her voice sounded strained and stressed, even to her own ears. Of course, modifying her shirt to fit a smaller body had meant it would not fit on her normal sized one. She was sure the ripped remains of it were lost in the bedding. Chat— _Adrien_ —laughed softly.

“For the second time in so many hours, I find myself in want of pants.” 

“You’re going to rob this city of all its pants if you keep up like this,” the words fell easily from her lips, in her mind she saw familiar green eyes and touseled blonde hair, large black ears and a devilish grin. But then a face adorned with sweet smile, tidy hair, and gentle eyes eclipsed her mental image. And she clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified at her behavior.

Beside her, Adrien laughed.

“To be fair,” he said, “I technically have a 100% discount at any of my father’s stores.”

“Y—yeah, I guess so…” She stared at his turned back. Adrien Agreste, the boy she’d been crazy in love with for years, was sitting in bed with her. Naked, it occurred to her, under the same tangle of sheets and blankets she was covering herself with.  _Oh god._ Her face could not get any redder. 

Still, despite all the chaos and awkwardness of this situation, she couldn’t help but appreciate his back. She’d noticed Adrien’s back, of course. She’d sat behind him in most classes for two years. She’d known how broad it was, how strong it looked, how nice to press herself against it must be. And, conversely, she’d noticed Chat Noir’s back. Well muscled and perfectly proportioned, it was impossible not to notice how attractive every inch of that boy’s body was in that catsuit. The back in front of her was as perfect as she’d ever imagined it. The lines, muscles, and shoulder blades all formed a picture worth drawing in her best charcoal. The freckle nestled just under his left shoulder blade insured she’d never be able to pretend that any drawing of it could ever be written off as a generic sketch for practice…

She pulled herself out of her thoughts and tore her eyes away from Adrien’s back. She didn’t know what to say. She’d never been able to talk to Adrien. And Chat…Well, Chat— _Oh god._ She flopped backwards on the bed with a groan. At once, Adrien was turning, concern in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“How could you let me drone on and  _on_  about you?” She accused him, grabbing a pillow to press over her face. He made a strangled noise. It might have been a laugh. Or the sound you make when you’re caught sneaking a cookie before dinner. Or some combination thereof.

“I couldn’t exactly stop you without outing myself.” She felt him fall heavily next to her on the bed, but refused to emerge from underneath her pillow. “And besides, you let me wax poetic about you, too!”

“Yeah, but everyone already knows Chat Noir likes Ladybug.  _I_  already knew, so it’s just not the same.” Her words came out muffled. This time, Adrien really did laugh. “Shut up, it’s not funny,” she growled.

“No, not that. It’s just…we’re all or nothing kind of people, aren’t we?”

“What?” She peeked out from under her pillow and eyed him. He looked thoughtful.

“Like, of  _course_  this is how our identities are compromised, you know? It’s either all geared up in head to tow suits or  _this_ ,” he gestured at them, laying as they were in bed. “All or nothing. See?”

“If you make a ‘the cat’s out of the bag’ joke, I’ll punch you.”

“I’ll save the jokes for later,” he promised.

“How about we just pitch them all together?” She suggested, but she was feeling slightly less mortified. Now she just wished she had a panic room to crawl into and live out the rest of her life in. Nothing so drastic as flinging herself into an active volcano out of shame, as had been her earlier plan.

“No can do, Princess,” she could hear the grin in his voice. She groaned, pressing the pillow harder against her face, determined to hide the deep blush it currently sported. Before Chat—Adrien!—could say anything more, something brushed against Marinette’s foot under the covers and she yelped, tugging her legs into herself.

“There’s something under there!” She finally abandoned her pillow to examine the offending lump under the blankets.

“What is it?” Adrien asked, and Marinette shoved his shoulder with an impatient huff.

“How would I know? Maybe it’s a mouse. Go get it.”

“And you were telling me to cut it out with the cat jokes.”

“Scaredy cat,” Marinette teased, and Adrien sighed in defeat, reaching to pull back the fabric from the creature. 

Small and red, with long antennae and a big black spot on her head.

“Tikki!” Marinette gasped, lunging for her small friend and scooping her up in careful hands. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Please—,” she was surprised to find tears welling in her eyes. While she’d been busy wallowing in her own embarrassment, Tikki had been laying there limp and possibly—no, she couldn’t think it. Couldn’t fathom it.

“I’ll be fine, Marinette,” Tikki’s eyes flitted open for a second, her voice was weak but hearing it at all made Marinette let out a grateful sob. Next to her, Adrien was rooting around in the blankets. Looking for his kwami—Plagg?—she assumed.

“What can I do?” Marinette whispered. “How can I help you?”

“I’m just…” her pause was so long it unnerved Marinette. “Tired. Out of energy. I need…food. Lots of food.”

“Camembert,” an equally weakened voice said from Adrien’s cupped hands.

Marinette glanced at Adrien and saw her own relief, worry, and guilt mirrored in his face.

“I’ll call room service,” Marinette said. “We’ll order the whole menu.” She paused. “On you, of course,” she said to Adrien. 

“That’s fair.” 

Calling room service and ordering mountains of food was the easy part. Opening the door to accept said food, they realized, would be more troubling. 

“You would think,” Marinette called grumpily from the bathroom, blankets clutched around her like a child, “that such a fancy hotel would have bathrobes. They always do in the movies.”

“Like I want to open the door in a bathrobe anyway,” Adrien shrugged, still comfortably settled on the bed, holding Tikki and Plagg, and looking entirely too unconcerned.

“Then what do you elect we do?” Marinette snapped.

“You’re the magic sewing person, not me,” he pointed out. “I bet you could turn one of those sheets into a dress before they’re even done cooking all our food.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered at the compliment, or annoyed that you’re not offering more help.” She said to him, and he answered with a small smile and a shrug.  _Oh god_ , she thought for the millionth time that morning, realizing that the boy in front of her, once again, was  _Adrien_. She kept slipping into thinking of him as Chat Noir, and telling him off like she would Chat. But he was also Adrien. And whenever that fact slid back into place, her mind got fuzzy and her tongue got too thick to speak.

She did her best to ignore the beautiful boy sitting on the bed and got to work, as he’d suggested, on transforming a sheet into a look she’d be unashamed to wear. Equipped with her mini sewing kit and the strong motivation to finish in time, she managed to create a semblance of an outfit. The end result was a simple handkerchief skirt from the white and Dutch blue floral patterned sheet and Adrien’s shirt, tied in a knot at the front to shield the fact that she had no way of making a bra. 

She emerged from her work station in the bathroom and made to rejoin Adrien, Tikki, and Plagg on the bed.

“Wow, Marinette, you’re amazing!” Tikki said brightly. Marinette smiled as much for the fact that Tikki was already sounding better as she did for the compliment. 

“Yeah,” Adrien said, staring at her in a way Marinette couldn’t describe. “You really pulled it off.”

“Uh, thanks,” the words stumbled out clumsily, and she quickly sat down and plucked Plagg from Adrien’s hands. “So you’re the Chat Noir kwami,” she said, inspecting the small black cat-like kwami. “Wow, it’s so nice to meet you!”

“He’s nothing special,” Tikki said, still lounging in Adrien’s grasp. 

“We can’t all be you, Tikki,” Plagg drawled lazily. Marinette laughed.

“You’re just what I would have expected,” she beamed at him, still marveling at the opportunity to actually meet this particular kwami. A part of her had never thought she would. 

“Thanks? Probably?”

“Oh, it’s a compliment,” Marinette assured him. “Of course the kwami responsible for Chat Noir would be extra special!” The little cat creature smiled at her with a shrug as if to say ‘ _all in a day’s work_ ’ in that smug and satisfied way Chat did whenever complimented. Tikki gave a giggle and Marinette turned a questioning eye on her, but instead her eyes found Adrien’s. He looked slightly gobsmacked. Her mind rewound to her appraisal of Plagg. It was, she realized, just as much praise for Chat Noir as it was for the kwami. She went red, which spurred his cheeks to flush ever so slightly. They quickly turned away from each other. Tikki laughed again.  

Luckily, a knock at the door interrupted any further humiliation.

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

“So, what happened?” Adrien asked the kwamis after they’d all eaten a fair amount of food. Marinette was just about full, but she seemed to be the only one. _Chat_  did  _always scarf down any goodies I got from downstairs…_ She wondered if it was a boy thing. Or just a Chat/Adrien thing. 

“Don’t know,” Plagg said as he ate more cheese. Marinette didn’t know how he fit it all in his stomach.

“The reason for you de-aging is as baffling to us as it is to you,” Tikki supplied, giving Plagg a look. 

“But why were you guys tapped in our miraculous?” Marinette asked.

“We weren’t trapped, kid,” Plagg said. Once again, Tikki swooped in to clarify.

“We stayed in your miraculous to supply you guys with enough energy to sustain life in bodies you aren’t accustomed to.”

“Sustain life?” Marinette asked.

“Look,” Plagg yawned. “When La Maîtresse was the big boss, her akumatized energy kept all the little kiddies up and running. Well, that and the memory loss. I’m no expert on humans but even I know you guys aren’t supposed to go changing the atomic make up of your bodies or whatever. There’s a reason you only age one way, you know.”

“So…we would have died if you’d come out of our miraculous’?” Adrien asked with only a hint of the horror Marinette felt at the whole scenario.

“Well,” Tikki thought for a moment. “You would have been without memory of anything past the age of your body. The mind will always try to realign with the body, if given the choice. You wouldn’t have died right away, without us. I don’t think. But you’d only have had an hour or so before your energy couldn’t sustain the change anymore.”

“But it took a lot out of Tikki and me, which is why you kittens were in civilian form. We didn’t have enough leftover energy to transform you.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said, scooping up Tikki for a hug. “Thank you for saving our lives. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been on you.”

“You’ve outdone yourself, Plagg,” Adrien said fondly, nuzzling his cheek against the reluctant Plagg.  _Cats_ , Marinette thought with fondness. “I’ll never call you lazy again.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Plagg grumbled, but he was obviously pleased. “And it wasn’t that bad. No special power to drain us. Really, Kid, it was kind of like one of your longer jaunts as Chat Noir.”

“Oh,” Adrien said with alarm, “I’ll cut those out. I didn’t know—,”

“Oh, stop it. I like those adventures. And  _those_  I can quit on anytime without killing you.”

“Just don’t do it until he’s safely on the ground, please,” Marinette laughed, imagining Adrien stuck in any of the weird and precarious places Chat Noir often perched. 

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

“I’ll go,” Adrien said for the fifth time. Everyone had eaten to their stomach’s content and now the question of leaving came into play.

“I’ve got more clothes,” Marinette pointed out. Again.

“Plagg says he’s recovered enough for a short trip. As Chat Noir,  _I_  have more clothes.”

“Don’t be stupid, Plagg should rest!”

“I’ve built up a stamina, Adrien and I have got this,” the Kwami in question put in. The were all so busy arguing the point that nobody heard the knock at the door. As a result, there was no one to answer the knock and, thus, no one to turn the maid service away. And that was how Sabrina Raincomprix came to find Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupin-Cheng in differing states of undress in room 403. 

She screamed. Marinette and Adrien met her eyes with twin horror. Tikki and Plagg dove under the covers, but they needn’t have worried. Sabrina could only stare, wide-eyed and shocked, at her classmates. Marinette took a moment to asses the situation. She was still dressed in her skirt, though she’d untied Adrien’s shirt to cover her midriff from self consciousness. She sat on the edge of the bed, body twisted towards Adrien, who was leaned up against the head-board, blankets still wrapped around his waist and chest bare for the world to see. Okay, it looked pretty bad. She was obviously wearing his shirt, he was obviously wearing nothing, and they were both obviously occupants of this room and its bed. 

“Sabrina—!” Marinette tried to find words to explain. She’d forgotten Sabrina had taken a part time job here to build her résumé.  _How could I have been so careless?_

“Oh. My. God! Chloe will  _freak_  out!”

“Please don’t tell her! Can’t we keep this, you know, between us?” Marinette pleaded.

“I’m terrible at secrets,” Sabrina squeaked. “And you guys just handed me a really big one!”

“Sabrina, this isn’t what it looks like…” Adrien tried. She just raised an eyebrow, which spoke for itself.  _What else could it be, Agreste?_

“How long have you guys been together? Oh my god, Marinette, I know you liked him but everyone’s been saying lately that you switched over to Chat Noir—,”

“They what?” Marinette choked.

“Yeah, like, your fashion sketchbook is  _full_  of Chat Noir, it’s pretty obvious. Was that all a cover to hide that this was happening?” 

“Why were you in my—never mind. Chloe.” Marinette sighed. The worst part was, Sabrina wasn’t trying to be mean. She was just curious and terrible at keeping things from Chloe. “Adrien and I aren’t…this isn’t…we didn’t…ugh, just  _try_  to keep it a secret?”

“Okay,” Sabrina said skeptically. “I guess I’ll come back later to clean up, when you guys are…decent.” And she slipped out the door.

“Go get me clothes,” Marinette said tiredly. “I don’t need anyone I know spotting me coming out of a hotel. It’ll just spread the inevitable rumors faster.”

“On it,” Adrien said, and Marinette turned her back as he transformed into Chat Noir. She didn’t look back until he’d jumped from the window.

“How did I get myself into this mess, Tikki?” Marinette moaned.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case ya'll couldn't tell, I have a thing about backs. I tried to get a friend to read it and tell me to tone it done, but guess what? She has a thing for backs too. So, as a result, Marinette gets a thing for backs TOO.


	10. An Impromptu Fashion Show

Chat Noir spared no expense. He climbed back in through the balcony, arms laden with bags. Marinette had rather expected him to grab some sweats from her own house, as he knew where it was and could navigate her room as well as she could by now. But no. She should’ve known better. He proffered her the bags and she took them, opening her mouth to comment on the sheer volume of clothes he seemed to have gotten her. She didn’t get the chance.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he gave her a sheepish grin as his mask and ears melted away. “It’s just…I knew you’d look so great in everything.” 

Marinette stared at him, dumbfounded, for a moment. He was Adrien again. But… “The jacket’s a nice touch,” she reached forward, nonthinking, and fingered the lapel on his black leather jacket, her bags forgotten on the floor. “It’s very… _super_.” It hinted at his identity in a way only someone who already knew would really notice. Then she dropped her hand with a yelp, as if burned. Adrien gave her an alarmed look, but she just scooped up the bags and scurried into the bathroom. Once inside, she let herself sink to the floor and burry her face in her knees.

“Marinette, you have got to get it together,” Tikki said, frowning down at her.

“I know,” Marinette’s voice was high and strained. “But I can’t! I wish I could talk to Alya about this.”

“She’d tell you what I’m telling you! Only, she’d probably be meaner about it.”

“I guess.” Marinette pulled herself off the ground and rifled through the overly fancy and obviously high end paper shopping bags. They even had delicate pink tissue paper! Her eyes widened as she took inventory of Adrien’s finds.

“No way!” She yelled, loud enough that Adrien called back, worry evident in his voice. She didn’t even let him finish his sentence. “You got practically the entire  _Papillon_  line by Gabriel! It’s not even supposed to have hit the racks yet! And, oh my god, no way! I’ve been dying to get this dress for months. And this blazer! I had no idea you had such a good eye for fashion…” Marinette trailed off, excitedly pulling on an outfit and barging out the door.

“I mean, my dad  _is_  a world famous designer and I  _do_  happen to be a model. It would be pretty sad if I couldn’t pick out a decent outfit.” Still, he looked pleased at Marinette’s enthusiasm as she twirled in front of the floor length mirror by the dresser.

“I can’t believe you got this all…for  _me_ ,” Marinette said, turning to face him in awe. Heat rose up in her cheeks as, once again, she came face to face with  _Adrien Agreste._

“You look every bit as beautiful in that dress as I thought you would,” he said in way of acknowledgment. Her blush deepened. But… _is he talking about Marinette or Ladybug?_  She couldn’t help but wonder. It shouldn’t matter. She was both. But it still itched at her.

“Really, I can’t just take this all,” Marinette said, gesturing at the clothes strewn across the bathroom floor. “It’s too much.”

“If you don’t, my feelings will be hurt,” Adrien warned.  _And since when do I care about your feelings?_  The gentle barb was at the tip of her tongue before she caught herself. She’d slipped back into Chat mode. “Now, come on, let’s see the rest! You make the clothes come to life in a way no mannequin ever could.”

And that was how Marinette found herself putting on a mini fashion show for two kwamis and two boys who meant the world to her, who, as it turned out, were really just one boy. When she settled on a black halter strap dress with a baby pink underskirt and lace to wear, she packed all the rest of the clothes away with care. Then she looked down at her bare feet.

“You didn’t happen to…” She trailed off as a pair of very familiar boots appeared in front of her face, hanging by their pink ribbon laces. “You didn’t!” She squealed, taking the boots from a smug looking Adrien.

“Oh, I did.”

“I love you!” She happily pulled on the boots, which happened to match her dress perfectly. She’d never thought they’d actually make those kiddie boots in her size and— _merde!_  She looked up from lacing her boots. Adrien was staring at her, wide eyed and red cheeked.  _Merde, merde, merde!_  “I didn’t—I mean—argh!”

“No, I didn’t think that…um…”

“We should probably…” 

“Go?”

“Yeah.”

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

“My parents will be so upset,” Marinette grimaced at her front door, stomach knotting with guilt and nerves. 

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Adrien offered her a sympathetic smile. “Punishments only last so long, right?”

“No, you don’t understand,” Marinette shook her head. “I don’t care about getting in trouble. I care about breaking their trust. I was irresponsible and inconsiderate and I didn’t even think to try and call them to let them know where I was or that I was okay. They must be so worried. What if I broke it?” She whispered, tears prickling at her eyes.

“Broke what?”

“My relationship with them! What if it’s broken and I can never fix it and they’ll never trust me again and I ruined everything?” The tears were threatening to fall now. To her astonishment, and irritation, Adrien laughed.

“Marinette, if you care that much about them and their trust in you, I’m  _paws_ itive they’ll forgive you and you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

She half smiled at him, but, amazingly, she did feel better. He gestured at the door, as if saying  _what are you waiting for?_  She lightly grabbed the handle, bracing herself to go inside.

“One mistake can’t break the bond you have with them,” Adrien whispered, giving her shoulder a squeeze. She glanced at him and there was that look.  _What look?_  She didn’t have time to examine the puzzle her brain was putting together. Adrien stepped away and gave her a wave, and she opened her door and almost immediately fell into her parents’ arms.

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

Marinette sat in her room, fiddling with the phone that had been left, along with a neat pile of clothes, on the balcony for her to find after talking with her parents. It hadn’t been so bad, really. It turned out, actually, that they’d been watching at the window all night, waiting for her to come home. And when she had, the’d taken the liberty to eavesdrop on her conversation with Adrien. Not that they’d intended to, but when she’d stayed outside to talk rather than rush inside, they were, understandably, curious as to why. She’d still gotten a lecture and had been given a ‘temporary’ curfew and stricter rules on updating them when she went out. But it could have been worse. Turns out they cared just as much about the Dupin-Cheng family relationship as Marinette did.

“Marinette, I’m coming up,” her mother called, climbing up into her room.

“Hi, Maman,” Marinette smiled, taking the platter of cookies that were offered. Her mother looked around Marinette’s room, then sat herself down.

“Now,” she said, “Care to tell me what it is, exactly, that you were up to with young Mr. Agreste?”

Marinette’s face went red. “We were just—I mean that—we, uh, hung out?”

“Hm. Did you enjoy your date?”

“D-date?” Marinette stared at her mother, aghast. “It wasn’t—,”

“Dear, you arrive home with bags of nice clothes and your boy on your arm. I’m not as blind as you seem to think.”

“ _My_  boy?” Marinette choked.

“That is the one you like, isn’t it?”

“Maman!”

“I’m just saying, I don’t mind you dating, Marinette. I know you’re growing up and I want you to be happy. I just wish you didn’t feel like you have to hide it from Papa and me.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Marinette insisted. “We just ran into each other and ended up losing track of time…” It wasn’t a lie, really. But her mother did not look too impressed.

“I don’t suppose I need to have a talk with you about spending the night with a boy, no matter how polite?”

“Maman! No!” Could this get any more humiliating?

“I didn’t think so. I was just telling your Papa that we raised you smarter than that. I expect you fell asleep playing that video game or some such nonsense.”

“Yes, exactly!”

“But, that doesn’t mean I’m fond of the idea of it happening again, understand?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Marinette nodded enthusiastically. Maman stood, dusted off her skirt, and made to exit.

“And Marinette?” She called, climbing down the hatch.

“Yeah?”

“Bring your boy around sometime. To meet us properly.”

“We’re not dating!” But the hatch closed. Marinette sighed and collapsed in her chair. “Great talk,” she muttered, cheeks still stained a seemingly permanent red. 

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

Marinette stared at her Wall of Shame. Pictures of Adrien were overlapped with pictures of Chat Noir. This, she decided, was even more ironic than she’d previously thought. She’d tried to sleep, but had been unable to still her body or mind long enough for the idea to take root. Mindlessly, she went up to her balcony and stood in the cool air under the bright stars.

“Merde,” she whispered to the dark. “I’m waiting for  _him_ , aren’t I?” And she was, she realized. It had become so commonplace for Chat to visit her at night that she’d taken to standing on the balcony, quiet and unspeaking, until he showed up. She wondered if he would do so tonight.

“You called?” Chat appeared from the shadows of her roof, slinking down onto her balcony.

“You’re here,” she said, though that was obvious. “I wasn’t sure you would be.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to be.”

“Don’t be silly. Maman made cookies. Want some?”

“You know it,” he beamed at her as she lead him back inside. When they were solidly in her room, Adrien de-transformed and offered Plagg the first cookie. He took it before disappearing. Adrien still wore the leather jacket, and Marinette found her eyes fixing on it rather than on his face.

She fidgeted nervously as he scarfed down cookie after cookie. The silence was less comfortable than the ones she used to share with Chat. Her face seemed permanently heated. And every time she opened her mouth to say something, little more than an awkward sound would come out. 

“What’s wrong?” Adrien asked, brow furrowed and eyes intent.

“What? Nothing’s wrong,” she laughed nervously, proving what they both knew. Something was wrong.

“You’re acting…strange. Like, one minute we’re best friends, and the next you won’t even look at me.”

“It’s how I’ve always been,” she muttered, but his frown indicated that he didn’t understand. “How do you do it?”

“What?”

“I don’t understand how you can pretend like nothing’s different. How can you adjust so easily? Chat Noir is my best friend, next to Alya…but Adrien is this unattainable dream. How am I supposed to—I don’t know how to act around you anymore!” She admitted, face heating even further as she buried it in her hands. She felt Adrien’s hands land heavily on he shoulders. 

“Then don’t act,” he said. Matter of fact. “Just  _be_.” He said it as though it were the simplest, most natural thing in the world. Marinette peeked up from her hands to meet his green eyes. They bore in to hers with intense sincerity. She snorted. Then burst out laughing.

“That is profound  _bullshit,_ ” she informed him.

“It’s what I’m known for,” and he gave her a brilliant grin.  _Chat’s_  grin. 

Here was this boy, goofy and sweet, serious and sincere, impossible and real. Here was this boy with beautiful green eyes and a heart melting smile. Here was this boy that had burrowed into her heart twice. Dozens of jokes Chat had made fell in to place. Adrien’s long winded bullshit speech about chemistry and physics fit so perfectly with her idea of Chat. Two boys merged into one in Marinette’s mind. And when she looked up at Adrien’s face she saw it all. She smiled.

 

☆.｡.:*ฅ(ↀᆺↀ)ฅ .｡.:*☆

 

“I was so scared,” Marinette said later as she and Adrien lay on her floor, looking up at her ceiling with only the lamp for light. “So scared that I’d lose this.”

“Me too,” Adrien said it quietly, as though ashamed to admit it. “I was worried I’d lose you. And, since you’re two-thirds of my best friends, that was a pretty terrifying concept.” 

Marinette laughed easily, turning on her side to stare at Adrien’s profile. “Do I still count as two-thirds?”

“Of course you do.” He smiled, and Marinette was tempted to reach out and trace that smile with her finger tips. She resisted. “How’d your parents react? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, thinking of her Mom Talk. “You were right. I think everything will work itself out just fine.” 

She examined his face in the darkness and found it strained. He looked… _That look_. It hit her. She’d seen this particular look on this particular face time and time again. Why? She rewound her thoughts and found that every time Adrien bore this expression it was because of…

“Oh, Chaton,” she edged closer to him and held him in a half hug, head resting on his chest. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Gabriel Agreste had been deemed an unfit father by La Maîtresse. And Adrien knew her judgment had been right. 

“How—?” 

“He loves you, I know he does. But he doesn’t know how to do it right. You deserve better, Adrien. And I’m so, so sorry he can’t give you it.”

“Are you a mind reader?” He shook his head. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. And I should have noticed earlier. That’s why you were upset when he got childized. You knew he’d be fine because Chat Noir and Ladybug would save him…”  
“But it’s just proof that he’s broken. That we’re broken. She took parents who hit and yell at their kids. She took terrible adults. She took my dad. He’s—,” his voice caught, “he’s all I have.”

“No. You have me, and Nino, and everyone at school. You have Plagg. And if you need less neglectful parents, you can share mine.”

She felt a tremor against her cheek. This time, the sounds she felt through Adrien’s chest were far from purrs. She held him all night, and, in direct violation of her agreement with her mother, she and Adrien fell asleep, intertwined, for the second night in a row.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to update for valentines day, didnt i? thanks for being tolerant of my sporadic uploads!


	11. An Almost Truth

Marinette woke to the blaring of her alarm clock. Disoriented, she felt around in an attempt to turn it off. Her hand, however, hit against something soft rather than the hard plastic button of her alarm.

“Ouch,” mumbled a sleepy voice, the owner of said voice rolled onto his side, pulling Marinette closer to his chest as he did so.  _And here I am…again,_  Marinette thought, tempted to lose herself in Adrien’s soft embrace and ever-present purring. Then her eyes snapped open properly. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and swatted at Adrien until he woke.

“We have school,” she hissed at him before scrambling to her feet in order to silence the alarm.

“Oh…” He wiped at his eyes, still not fully awake. “Oh!  _Merde_  I need to get home so I can brush my teeth— M. Bernard is gonna have a field day when I turn up late today.” Adrien groaned, stretching as he stood up. Marinette spared a moment to contemplate how gracefully his long limbs arched as he stretched them.  _Another cat-like attribute,_ she noted with a smile, heading into her bathroom.

“Don’t waste time going home, I’ve got loads of extra toothbrushes. You can have one.”

“Uh, thanks.” Adrien deftly caught the packaged toothbrush she tossed at him. “But why do you have about twenty toothbrushes?” He asked, eyeing the door which she’d taken it from. It was overflowing with the things.

“I don’t know, doesn’t everyone?” She shrugged, but Adrien was still looking at her as if she were crazy. “What? I’ve just accumulated them over the years. I couldn’t properly tell you where they come from.” He laughed, finally joining her at the sink and shucking off the wrapping of his toothbrush.

“And you’d better appreciate that one,” she told him as she squeezed out toothpaste. “It’s a special edition Chat Noir toothbrush.” She caught his expression in the mirror and found her cheeks heating again. He look baffled, but soon his bafflement turned to delight.

“I didn’t realized you were a fan, Princess,” he looked too pleased with himself and Marinette huffed.

“Oh, hush up. You  _are_  my favorite superhero, after all.” She didn’t need him knowing how religiously she’d been collecting Chat Noir merch recently, though. She turned her attention back to her watermelon toothpaste, but not before she caught a light blush dusting Adrien’s cheeks.

It felt surprisingly natural to be getting ready in the morning next to Adrien, a lot like getting ready with Alya after she’d spent the night. The domesticity of it almost overwhelmed her, especially when the Chat Noir toothbrush joined her pink one, and Alya’s Ladybug one in the holder. Like this could be a recurring thing.  _Sorry, Maman_.

“I’ll see you at school, then,” Adrien said, suiting up and vaulting from her window. Marinette watched him dance across rooftops, a peculiar feeling taking hold of her heart. Her cheeks felt warm once again, but this time, not with embarrassment. 

☆ . ｡ .:* ฅ (ↀ ᆺ ↀ) ฅ  . ｡ .:* ☆

“Marinette, girl, you are looking  _hot_!” Alya whistled as Marinette jogged to her and Nino’s bench outside the school. Marinette felt giddy, and she gave a little twirl to show her outfit off, her black circle skirt flaring to show off the layers of colorful chiffon underneath. Alya and Nino clapped as Marinette took a bow, then smoothed down her white peasant blouse.

“How did  _you_  get  _those_ ,” Chloe sneered, appearing at Marinette’s shoulders.

“Good morning, Chloe,” Marinette said with a sigh.

“Even if they were in stores yet, it’s not like you could afford  _Papillon._ Did you steal them?”

“I’m not a thief!” Marinette snapped.

“Nah, that’d be me,” Adrien said, sauntering up to the cluster. “But to be fair, I get—“

“A 100% discount at all of your father’s stores,” Marinette grinned. Marinette wasn’t sure who looked more surprised at this exchange, Alya or Chloe.

“You gave  _her_ —?!” Chloe looked ready to throw a fit, but just then Sabrina arrived. She put a calming hand on Chloe’s shoulder, defusing some of the tension. She and that butler (Marinette was never sure of his name) were the only people who could calm Chloe at all. But then Sabrina’s gaze fell on her and Adrien. She went white as a ghost and suddenly Marinette remembered the events of room 403 vividly. She willed Sabrina to read her mind— to see the desperate plea in her eyes.  _Please please_ please _don’t tell anyone._

“Let’s go, Chloe,” Sabrina mumbled, pulling her best friend away.

“So, uh, the city is finally safe from La Maîtresse,” Marinette said hurriedly, trying to draw attention away from that whole ordeal.

“Yeah!” Alya’s eyes lit up, “I already did a story on it, but,  _man_ , was that akuma crazy or what? I think it’s one of my favorite blog posts—the motivation and emotion involved in this case was so different than usual. Teachers almost always have the best stories. Do you remember Zombizou?”

Marinette and Adrien nodded along happily to Alya’s babble about the Ladyblog, but their eyes kept meeting in darting glances. The bell rang and prompted the group to migrate towards class. Marinette caught the stink eye from Chloe, and that was when the abnormality of the situation hit her. She and Adrien had walked right in to school and started off bantering as if they were old friend with heaps of inside jokes. And, to be fair, they  _were_  that. But they were the only ones who knew it. To everyone else, it would seem like a complete one-eighty.

☆ . ｡ .:* ฅ (ↀ ᆺ ↀ) ฅ  . ｡ .:* ☆

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” Alya whispered as the lesson rolled to a stop. They were supposed to be planning a project, but Alya had different ideas. “Where  _were_  you yesterday? Your parents were freaking out, Marinette. They called me so many times to check if I’d seen you that  _I_  started to freak out, too. You owe me an explanation.”

“I can’t…” Marinette started, but she caught Sabrina’s eye. The ginger looked incredibly stressed, and Chloe was grilling her. Marinette had no doubt what about. She was about to break. Marinette wasn’t sure how Chloe managed to sniff out when people had major dirt to spill, but she never failed to not only notice but to draw it out as well. “I was with Adrien,” Marinette said so quietly that she wasn’t sure Alya had heard.

“What?” Alya asked, eyes wide as they took a quick detour to stare at the back of Adrien’s head.

“It’s a long and complicated story,” Marinette sighed. “But it’s better you hear it from me…”

“Rather than…?” Alya prompted.

“Listen, it’s not important why, but Adrien and I spent the night together—not like that—but we were at a hotel and maybe not as dressed as usual—shh, let me finish—and Sabrina walked in on us yesterday morning and she probably thinks that we…ugh!” Marinette’s cheeks were as red as ever as she rushed through her hushed explanation. “But you believe me, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Alya said, dumbfounded. “But  _why_  were you sleeping in a hotel  _with Adrien_?” Her voice rose on the last words and Adrien turned to look at her.

“We were hit by a weird post-akuma blast,” Adrien provided suavely. Marinette narrowed her eyes at him. Either he was incredibly perceptive and had known just by reading their faces what Marinette had reveled or…

“How many of our conversations have you eavesdropped on, Agreste?” She asked, indignant and horrified as she tried to remember how often she’d said embarrassing things with him sitting just in front of her.

“I don’t eavesdrop,” Adrien defended, “I just have  _super_  good hearing.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that you could hear everything?” She chided, but he just shrugged. Alya’s face was a mask of confusion and amazement as she looked from one to the other of them. Marinette shut her mouth fast, hoping to avoid digging herself deeper into this hole. It was already a miracle Alya hadn’t sussed her out for being Ladybug. And at this rate, that miracle wouldn’t last much longer.

“A post-akuma blast?” Alya asked, her obsession with Ladybug thankfully winning out over her desire to poke around in Marinette’s new relationship with Adrien. “I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

“Me either,” Marinette said honestly.

“Yeah, it was weird. I was helping Marinette with her physics project near that museum and we heard a bit of a commotion.”

“You must have rubbed off on me because I wanted to get a closer look,” Marinette told Alya.

“And then  _bam_  we were kids.” Adrien finished. “And we got tired so I stole a room key to Chloe’s dad’s hotel and we crashed. When we woke up we were normal again, and that’s when Sabrina walked in.”

Marinette was pleased with how close to the truth they’d been able to keep it.

“No kidding? You guys were  _childized?_ After the akuma was purified? That’s unheard of!”

“Yeah, but could you not go plastering that on your blog,” Marinette plead. “I don’t need my parents thinking I get up to dangerous stuff all the time, and me being turned into a kid would freak them out. You know they  _still_  talk about moving to New York sometimes.”

“Fine,” Alya’s mouth twisted in a frown. “I don’t want to put you guys in an uncomfortable situation. But…maybe we could work something out if I kept it all anonymous?” Alya’s eyes gleamed the way they did whenever she got excited. Marinette laughed. She could never say no to that.

But her good mood lasted only for as long as it took for her to spot Chloe and Sabrina again. Alya followed her gaze and sighed.

“Now  _that_  is going to be tricky to handle.”

“Yep,” Marinette sunk low in her chair. There was no avoiding the rumors that would come, and she dreaded them.

“Just a thought, but why didn’t you keep all your clothes on?” Alya asked. Marinette and Adrien exchanged a glance. The idea behind their decision to forgo all their clothes had, of course, been to avoid compromising their identities.

“Alya,” Adrien said with a seriousness that caught Marinette’s attention. “Have you ever tried to keep on a pair of pants that is taller than you are?”

Alya stared at him, but Marinette snorted with laughter. Had Adrien always been like this or did she only notice it now that she really knew him? She didn’t know, but either way her outburst earned her a scolding from their prowling professor.

“We’ve still got a  _lot_  to talk about,” Alya hissed under her breath as they all turned back to their work.

“You can say that again,” Marinette agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't even the longest I've ever gone between updates.  
> Thank you to all of you who are still reading this haha ily and I'm sorry I'm a mess. I won't pretend that I can ever offer you normal and acceptably spaced updates, but I CAN promise you that I'll finish this. Eventually. I never abandon a work so like, come back in five years and I bet you this'll be completed.


	12. A Web of Feelings

Alya followed Marionette home when school ended. Marinette could practically feel all those burning questions literally  _burning_  her. At least no new akumas had popped up since La Maîtresse, so Marinette was, at least, free to answer all those questions.

“If you want to interview me about the post-akuma blast, I can’t really tell you anything more. I have no idea why it happened.” Marinette offered, but she knew that wasn’t what Alya was after just now.

“Okay, spill,” Alya demanded the moment the hatch to Marinette’s room was shut. “What in the name of Chat went down with you and Adrien?”

“I told you,” Marinette said meekly. Alya was having none of it.

“Nuh-uh, Marinette. You told me how Sabrina found you both naked in bed. In my experience, something like that would only make your nerves around Adrien worse. So why are you guys  _like that?_ ”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve been best friends since you were—.”

“Kids?” Marinette smiled wryly but, again, Alya was unimpressed.  _Adrien would have laughed,_  Marinette thought. “Look, when we got turned into kids there were more pressing things to deal with, you know?”

“Sure,” Alya said skeptically.

“Nothing like that blast had ever happened before so we were worried. And we were five. Between those things I just didn’t realize I was talking with Adrien,” not to mention that she’d known she  _was_  talking to Chat. “You can’t really have an active crush on someone when they’re in a five year old’s body. Like, every time I looked over at him I saw this cute little kid and whenever I wasn’t looking at him I was trying to figure out how to make us  _not_  be cute little kids.”

“So you’re telling me that you spent one day with Adrien while acting like a normal person—because you forgot you were talking to  _him_ —and because of that you guys forged some deep bond?”

“Uh, yeah?” Marinette expected to get called on her BS, but Alya just barked a laugh and slapped her on the shoulder.

“See girl, I  _told_  you if you’d just calm down you and Adrien could be great together!”

“You were right,” Marinette laughed weakly. She hoped, deep in her subconscious, that Alya wouldn’t say—

“And I think he likes you, Marinette. I actually, honestly really do think so.” And there it was. Tears sprang to Marinette’s eye without being bidden. Alya looked panicked, which would have made Marinette laugh if she weren’t so frustrated with herself. Alya had likely expected Marinette to be excited about this proclamation. Alya opened her mouth, as if trying to come up with words that would make Marinette stop crying. Marinette shook her head.

“Thanks, Alya,” she sniffed. “I’m fine. Sorry for going all freak-o on you. It’s just been a really long twenty-four hours.”

“Did he say something to you?” Alya demanded, worry turning into anger. “Does he like someone else, did he tell you? Or did he say something about not wanting to date you? I’ll beat him up, don’t think I’m above violence.”

“I know you’re not,” Marinette laughed.

“Seriously, what did he say?”

_…you might not be my blue haired princess…_

Marinette shook her head with conviction. “Nothing. Really, nothing. I just…I’ve liked him for so long I guess I never expected to actually get this far. I’m overwhelmed.” Alya took the lie easily, laughing a bit before settling down on Marinette’s bed and pulling out her laptop to start drafting a story about the akuma after blast. But all Marinette could think of was Adrien. Which shouldn’t have been a surprise, really. Wasn’t she always thinking about him? Until recently, thanks to Chat, that was. And even then, it turned out she’d  _still_  been thinking of Adrien.

She knew that she and Adrien now had a tangled web of feelings between them. She just hadn’t wanted to broach the subject because they were in such a good place. A solid and supportive friendship. She didn’t want to rock the boat, not even in her own mind. But the wave had hit the boat anyway. Chat Noir had been in love with Ladybug for as long as Marinette had been in love with Adrien. Which, theoretically, translated to them having been mutually in love for years. But, in practice, it didn’t translate nearly so cleanly.

_If_  Adrien liked her, was it just because of the confident persona she donned with her mask? She knew he wasn’t shallow enough to like her solely because of it, but as a byproduct? Completely possible. Ladybug was a part of who Marinette was, but the bigger part of her, the realer part? That alway came out more without the spots. She worried Adrien would expect her to be more Ladybug and less Marinette, and then be disappointed when she wasn’t. She was clumsy and nervous and easy to anger, all traits she tried her hardest to suppress when being the hero of Paris. And that perfected version of Marinette was what Chat—Adrien—had fallen in love with.

But it was even more complicated than that. At least then she’d only have to wonder with her he liked. But when they’d gotten icecream, Adrien had confessed to her that he was getting over her _…you might not be my blue haired princess,_ he’d said. So she didn’t have any proof that he even still liked her at all.

Of course, she’d told him over and over again that she  _didn’t_  like him. She’d been the first to speak on the matter during their icecream date.  _You’re not my green eyed prince_ , she remembered telling him. But that hadn’t really been true. She’d questioned that, even before finding out that Chat Noir was one in the same with Adrien Agreste.

“I really like him,” she whispered aloud. Alya’s aggressive typing ceased at once. “I really, really like him. Every part of him. And I’m so scared that he doesn’t like every part of me too.”


	13. A Return to Normal

Life returned to normal a week after the vanquishing of La Maîtresse. Akumatized people started sprouting up again all over the place, and Chat Noir and Ladybug were once again the capable heroes Paris had always known them to be. By all accounts, they seemed to be stronger and better than ever. Marinette suspected it had something to do with the core of their relationship being strengthened. The two of them had never been closer or more in sync in any carnation or configuration than they were now.

Alya had finished her post about the post-akuma blast, sourcing anonymous tips. She speculated that La Maîtresse’s energy levels had compounded over the long time she’d possessed them and when they were released, there was too much for the akuma to hold alone, so a blast of her powers had been expelled upon purification. Really, it was as good a theory as any Marinette, Adrien, and the Kwami’s could come up with.

Now Alya sat in Marinette’s room, laptop out and fingers  _tap-tap-tapping._  Though Marinette noticed that the backspace bar was the most used key.

“What’s up?” Marinette asked her.

“I’m not sure about whether I should post the names of all the victims this time,” Alya admitted, clearly frustrated by this roadblock. Marinette had a strong opinion on this one, but she didn’t voice it. Alya needed a sounding a board, not advice.

“I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.” And she was. She had no doubt that Alya would do the right thing.

“If they’re bad parents, they should be called out on it. And it’s my job as the press to report it how it is,” she told Marinette. “But can you imagine being a kid with a parent that was turned? And then having that be public knowledge forever? And people would always speculate on what kind of  _bad_  your mom or dad was. You’d have people whispering about if your parents hit you or yelled at you or neglected you. It would be awful.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said softly, thinking of Adrien. “It would.”

“Ugh, I’ve got to go work this out,” Alya collected her bag and headed to leave. “I’ll see you later Marinette.”

“You’re a good person, Alya,” Marinette smiled after her best friend.

Several hours later a familiar knocking echoed through her room. Marinette grinned, hurrying to let Chat in.

“Did you see Alya’s new post on the Ladyblog?” He asked, suit melting away to reveal Adrien. He pulled out his phone before Marinette could even answer. “Listen to this:  _Some of you have noticed how unthorough my list of victims is this time. This is not a mistake or a failure to investigate but a conscious choice I thought long and hard on. It was decided that providing all names would lead to child endangerment. La Maîtresse struck Paris with her unforgiving judgment, as you all know, turning all adults, specifically parents, who were found lacking into children so as to raise them right. She herself has admitted that her method was faulty and she regrets very much the pain she has caused to so many families across our city. However, I have worked closely with her to report all instances of abuse to the proper authorities. Out of respect to, and for the safety of those children, I deemed it necessary to shield them from the spotlight. Which included taking down the names of their parents on this blog. I hope you will all show the same respect and refrain from doing your own snooping.”_ He finished reading, looking to Marinette with a huge grin. She returned it.

“I knew she’d do something like this,” Marinette said and Adrien nodded, though she could tell he was still relieved.

“I’ll have to thank her. For me and all the other kids she’s protecting too.”

“I think she’d like that.” Then she bumped him gently with her hip. “But I thought you said we were hardly kids, hm?”

“Sometimes I feel like we’re not. Sometimes I feel like the weight of the whole city’s protection is too heavy for a couple of kids so there’s no way we could be. Other times I think I feel like a grown up just because I haven’t gotten to be a kid since Mother died. But sometimes…I feel so much like a little kid that it scares me. Waiting for Alya’s victim list to update was one of those times, I guess.”

Marinette didn’t say a word, just collected him into her arms and pressed her cheek against his chest. She didn’t speak for a long time, and neither did he, though his arms wrapped around her and his chin rested lightly on her head.

“I understand what you mean,” she whispered. “I know it sounds stupid, but when I’m Ladybug I’m a different me,” it was terrifying to admit it to him. “A better, more refined, more mature version. When I’m her, I’m not a kid. I can’t be, or I’d be too scared to do my job properly. But I get to come home and eat dinner with my parents and get tucked in by Maman after a hard day. I get to be a kid when I’m Marinette. I’m sorry that you’re always expected to be grown up, in one way or another. That’s not fair.”

“Thank you,” he said, then kissed the top of her head. She squeaked, reflexively holding tighter to Adrien. “But you’re wrong about one thing, Princess.”

“Oh?” She barely managed to get it out.

“Ladybug isn’t a better version of Marinette. That’s just a different side of you. And all sides of you are perfect.”

☆ . ｡ .:* ฅ (ↀ ᆺ ↀ) ฅ  . ｡ .:* ☆

Marinette floated through school the next day is if through a dream. Adrien thought she was perfect. And not just Ladybug, either. But  _her_ , for all she was. And he’s kissed her. Sure, only on the top of her head, but he’d  _kissed_  her. She’d been unable to come up with a reply, but she wished she’d been brave enough to tell him how she felt about him. How she loved all of who he was. But she’d been tongue tied and flustered, overwhelmed by his kindness.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” and all at once she was falling back to Earth. Sabrina slid past her, but shot her one more apologetic look. She’d cracked. Marinette looked around desperately, trying to catch a glimpse of Chloe to gauge her reaction to Sabrina’s secret. But she was accosted by the girl before she could even spot her.

“And  _what_  is this I hear about you and Adrien cozying up in my Daddy’s hotel?” Chloe hissed, pulling Marinette away from the throngs of students trying to get to class. Marinette took a deep breath. Alya had coached her on what to do. She’d only hoped she wouldn’t actually have to use it.

“Chloe I swear it wasn’t like that,” she tried.

“Then what exactly was it like?”

“I can’t say, but please believe me. It’s all a huge misunderstanding,” she pleaded.

“I don’t think so,” Chloe snarled. “Wait until everyone knows what a nasty little—,”

“Chloe, wait,” Marinette sighed. “You don’t want to spread this around.”

“I don’t?” She barked a cruel laugh. “That’s news to me.”

“Think about it. If you go telling everyone about what Sabrina  _thinks_  she saw, they’ll all think the same thing.”

“Duh. That’s the point.”

“That me and Adrien are together. Dating. In love, even. And then it’ll become pretty obvious that he’s not interested in you, despite what you’re always telling people.” Not that anyone really believed he liked Chloe anyway, but Alya had assured Marinette that she’d be too self-absorbed to notice. Sure enough, Chloe froze, her face falling.

“Sabrina must have been mistake, There’s no way Adrien would ever be with  _you_.” And she stormed off. Marinette watched her go in relief, hardly even stung by her adamance that Adrien could never like her.

“Alya, you’re a genius,” Marinette said, sliding into her seat. “Chloe crisis is officially averted.”

“Told you it would work,” Alya grinned. “So, where’s your math homework?”

Marinette stuck her tongue out, but she was already pulling the unfinished homework from her bag, intent on finishing it was due before next class. Everything really was back to normal.  _Well_ , Marinette thought, glancing at Adrien, hunched over his own math homework,  _almost everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I trying to bribe you guys into forgiving me for abandoning you for a year? Possibly. is it working?


	14. A Simple Game

The lights went out, accompanied by a clap of thunder so great Marinette could feel it in her bones. She glanced out the window, ignoring the squeals and exclamations from her classmates. Lightning lit up the sky in furious bursts, but there was no sign of an akuma. Well then, there was nothing she could do to help the power situation, so she sat back in her seat and waited for for Mme. Agathe to tell them what to do.

“Can’t be an akuma,” Alya said, on the same wavelength as Marinette. “And anyway, there was one yesterday. They don’t usually crop up  _every_  day. Just a boring old thunderstorm.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Adrien said, having turned around to listen in. “Ladybug and Chat Noir could probably use a break.”

“Yeah,” Marinette agreed. “Yesterday’s akuma was  _tough_.”

“I only rated him an eight,” Alya said absently, checking on her blog while Mme. Agathe went to talk with the rest of the staff.

“Don’t they, like, have to let us out of school if the power is off for too long?” Chloe’s voice cut through the air, shrill and annoying as ever.

“No way!” Alya bellowed, loud enough to shut everyone else up.

“Excuse me?” Chloe shrieked indignantly.

“Not you, sit down,” Alya said, waving a hand dismissively at Chloe. “They just put out a flood warning. Everyone in Paris is supposed to just hang tight were they are. So, no Chloe, they won’t let us leave.”

“Well, I’m not doing school with the lights out,” Chloe huffed. Marinette rolled her eyes and turned back to her friends, thinking nothing of Chloe’s remark. Turns out, someone ought to have paid more attention to what the heiress was doing.

“Chloe,” Sabrina hissed, worry evident in he voice. That’s what called Marinette’s attention to the duo. Chloe was holding a key, triumphant.

“What’re you doing?” Marinette raised her voice above the din of conversations.

“Saving us all from class,” Chloe said, dropping the key down an air vent. “You’re welcome.”

At first this comment made no sense to anyone. Then it dawned on Marinette. She hurried to the door, attempting to pull it open. But it was locked. It was a safety precaution: all their classes had the ability to be locked securely from the inside so unwanted intruders couldn’t gain entry easily. Marinette rounded on Chloe.

“You just locked Mme. Agathe out!” She accused.

“Worse,” Alya said, staring at the vent, “she just locked  _us_  in.”

“Where’d you even get the key?” Adrien asked.

“From her desk, duh.”

“You snooped around in a teacher’s desk?” Marinette was horrified.

“Oh, whatever. She’d have made us do math in the dark and you all know it. I saved us.”

“But we can’t get out,” Alya said, exasperated. “What are we supposed to do until they can get a locksmith in here?”

“Truth or dare?” Chloe suggested, like this was a slumber party. They all laughed at the suggestion, but in half an hour everyone was bored enough to gather round in a circle at the front of the room. Chloe looked triumphant.

“I don’t want to play,” Marinette moped to Alya, who just laughed.

“Come on, don’t be a party pooper. It’s more fun if you actually play than if you sit on the edge. Right, Adrien?” It was a dirty trick, and Alya knew it.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Adrien grinned. In the inconsistent light of cellphones and lightning, Adrien looked a lot like Chat Noir.

“Careful,” Marinette whispered, “you wouldn’t want everyone to see your claws.”

“Even I can have fun sometimes. Doesn’t mean anything.”

Marinette shook her head at him. But, then, this was probably the closest he’d ever been to a real slumber party with stupid games like truth or dare. So Marinette settled down between him and Alya. To her dismay, Chloe inserted herself on Adrien’s other side, giggling vapidly and clinging to him tighter than ever. She’d been like that in the days since Sabrina had told her about room 403.

“I’ll start,” Alya said before Chloe had the chance. Marinette was glad. The game would at least be starting off in a positive direction. “Marc, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he said, eyeing Alya suspiciously.

“Is it true that you and Nathaniel are working on a comic explaining Hawkmoth’s origin?”

“Yes,” Marc seemed relieved at the easy question.

“And is it true that, in this comic, Hawkmoth is smoking hot?”

“I already answered your question! No doubling up,” Marc protested, but his face was red. Alya let out a hooting laugh, having obtained the information she wanted. “Um, Max, truth or dare?”

It went on for a long time, miraculously avoiding Chloe. The highlight was Rose daring Juleka to go out with her the next night. Juleka had gone beet red, protesting that, since they were already dating, it wasn’t much of a dare. Finally, though, the question landed on Chloe.

“Chloe, truth or dare,” Kim asked.

“Dare, but I won’t kiss you.” She sneered, and Kim shrugged.

“I dare you to throw one of your shoes out the window.”

Chloe gaped at him. “My shoe? But it will get ruined in the rain!”

“It’ll dry. What, are you chicken?” He taunted, flapping his arms like massive chicken wings.

“Ugh, fine,” Chloe stomped over to the window and tossed her left shoe out of it, slamming it shut against the rain. “There. Are you happy, you heathens?” The laughter suggested that they were, indeed, happy. Settling back in her seat, Chloe scanned the circle for her victim. Marinette knew it was her even before Chloe’s lips curled into a smile and she sweetly asked, “Marinette. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Marinette sighed, bracing herself for whatever Chloe had in store.

“Let me think,” she tapped a manicured fingertip against her lips, “oh, I know! Who was your first kiss?”

It was, in Marinette’s opinion, a stupid question for someone who didn’t want the class knowing she and Adrien were…what?  _What_  were they? For all Chloe knew, her first kiss could have been Adrien. But then, possibly she was trying to get Marinette to claim herself that she and Adrien were an item so she could dispute it?

“Don’t worry,” Chloe crooned. “It’s okay if you haven’t had it yet. I mean, you’re only sixteen. Plenty of people don’t have their first kiss until they’re our age,” but her tone was saying the exact opposite. Marinette scowled. So  _this_  was her plan, was it? Plant the idea that Marinette had never even been kissed so that she’d seem like a liar if word of the hotel business ever got around? Seething, Marinette opened her mouth and let it rip before thinking it through.

“Actually, I had my first kiss years ago.”

“Oh yeah?” Chloe’s voice dripped with disbelief. “Who with? No one here’s ever dated you.”

“With Chat Noir—,” she clapped her hands over her mouth, as shocked by that admission as her classmates, all staring at her wide eyed and open mouthed. She met Adrien’s startled gaze and cursed her flaring temper and broken brain to mouth filter. “I mean, it was an emergency, so it doesn’t really count,” she hastened to explain.

“A kissing emergency?” Kim smirked.

“Yes, actually, the kissing emergency  _you_  caused when you got akumatized,” Marinette informed him cooly.

“Oh,” Adrien said, comprehension dawning. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“You mean you brought him back from the dark love arrow?” Alya asked, phone out and thumbs tapping furiously. “I can  _not_  believe you didn’t tell me!”

“I didn’t want it on the internet,” Marinette mumbled. Of course, the real trouble had been Chat Noir connecting her with Ladybug. But still, she hadn’t meant to tell Adrien like  _this_  that they’d kissed. Actually, she’d practically forgotten about it.

“That’s so romantic!” Rose clapped her hands. “I  _knew_  you liked him!”

“What?” Marinette stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Last month,” Juleka said, “you got mad at me for saying I’d rather date Ladybug than Chat Noir. You told me how great Chat Noir is for so long I was late to class. And I happen to really admire Chat Noir, it’s just that I’m gay. So…” Marinette blushed furiously at the memory.

“And I’ve seen your sketchbook in art class,” Nathanial added. “It’s full of nothing but pictures of Chat Noir recently.”

“That’s not true,” Marinette protested. But she knew full well that it  _was_  true.

“Huh,” Alya and Adrien said at once.

“What, neither of you noticed?” Nino snickered. “It’s been common knowledge for ages that Marinette’s in love with The Chat.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Marinette pleaded, face so red it almost hurt. She briefly met Adrien’s eye, then buried her face in her hands. Marc, bless him, came to her rescue and redirected the group to a game of telephone.

☆ . ｡ .:* ฅ (ↀ ᆺ ↀ) ฅ  . ｡ .:* ☆

“So do you really like Chat Noir?” Alya whispered later, once the storm had passed and the door unlocked by a smith. It was their last class of the day and everyone was tired and buzzing at the same time from the strange day.

“Shh,” Marinette hushed her, aware that no matter how quiet Alya was, Adrien’s ears could pick out their conversation.

“I thought you liked—,”

“I just think Chat’s really great, okay?” Marinette said, resigning herself to her fate. “He’s surprisingly sweet and sincere,” Marinette can see the tips of Adrien’s ears go pink. Suddenly, she can’t stop herself. “And he’s funny, underneath all those terrible puns, anyway. And he  _is_  really charming, when you get to know him. I never noticed any of it before, but lately we’ve been talking—,”

“You’re  _friends_  with Chat Noir?” Alya accused, no doubt upset that Marinette had failed to deliver insights to her.

“Mmhm. I’m just glad to have him in my life, that’s all.” Marinette finished, feeling more pleased with her ability to fluster Adrien than she possibly should have. Served him right for eavesdropping.

“Wait, so  _do_  you have a crush on him?” Alya asked, brows scrunched in confusion.

“Maybe.” Her eyes never left Adrien’s back.

“But what about Adrien? I thought we decided you still liked him?”

“Maybe that, too,” Marinette shrugged. It wasn’t how she’d meant to confess her feelings to Adrien, but it was easier without having to actually look at his face.


	15. A Proper Confession

“I have a fencing match today,” Adrien told Marinette as she funneled toward the exit of the classroom at the bell. She paused only a moment to consider how he’d gently grabbed her wrist so as not to lose her in the crowd as she walked by his table. Instead of coming to a stop, she maneuvered her hand into his and continued walking, pulling him along.

“Do you want me to come watch?” She asked.

“I—no, I didn’t mean that,” Adrien said quickly, face redder than Marinette had yet seen it. “I was just going to ask if I could drop by, once I’m done?”

“You know you’re always more than welcome. And you can even come through the front door sometime if you’d like. Maman and Papa love having guests, you know.”

“Last time I had dinner at yours, I got your dad akumatized.”

“So the next time has got to be an improvement.”

“Sure, unless he still hates me.”

“He doesn’t,” Marinette said, “he talks about what a great guy you are, Chaton. Anyway, you could drop by sans suit and he’d never even know you were involved in that incident, if you’re still worried.”

“Hey, I’d forgotten, but you  _did_  say you had a crush on me, what? Two years ago? Now I’m sure you didn’t, so what was that all about?”

“Oh,” Marinette blushed at the memory. “I thought you were going to figure me out. Because I was always around. So I panicked.” Adrien just laughed at that, which made her smile.

“Well, this is my stop,” Adrien said as they reached the locker rooms. His hand slipped from hers and he made to walk in.

“Wait,” Marinette grabbed his arm. “Do you mind if I stay and watch, anyway?”

“You don’t have to,” he said, flustered once again. “You’ll get bored.”

“I want to,” Marinette insisted, feeling the heat in her own cheeks. “And I won’t get bored. Stabbing people is a much more entertaining sport than football.” She remembered, to her embarrassment, once falling asleep at a game Alya had dragged her to. But, try as she might, she hadn’t been able to understand the excitement of pushing around a black and white ball with your feet. But a sport with blades?  _That_  she could get behind. “Besides,” Marinette admitted, “it’s important to you, which makes it important to me.”

“I—yeah. I’d really like it if you stayed, Marinette.” He smiled so brilliantly that Marinette wondered if anyone had ever come to support him in a match before. She suspected not.

☆ . ｡ .:* ฅ (ↀ ᆺ ↀ) ฅ  . ｡ .:* ☆

“You were amazing!” Marinette gushed the moment the event ended. Adrien smiled sheepishly, mask under his arm, though his sabre was already put away. “I mean, I don’t know anything about fencing, as I’m sure you remember,” they both laughed, remembering her abysmal attempts at fencing and her bad call on another, more informal, match. “But you beat that guy fifteen to nothing! That’s incredible! Right?”

“It’s not bad,” was all he’d admit to before going off to change. When he returned Marinette dove right back in as they started to walk out of the school and towards her place.

“So you’ll advance to the next level, right?”

“Yeah,” he beamed. “I want to make it to nationals.”

“I’m sure you will.” And Marinette planned on being at every match leading up to it. “Hey, do you want to go further than that? Like, to the olympics?”

“I can’t,” Adrien sighed. “I don’t have the time. Even beyond our particular extracurricular activity, I have modeling and piano as well as fencing. I don’t have the time needed to devote myself to the blade to be olympic levels of good.”

“But if you did?”

“Then, yeah.” He didn’t even hesitate. “I love piano, too. And modeling can be fun. And I’m extremely lucky to have all the opportunity in all the areas that I do. But when I’m modeling I’m everyone  _else’s_  idea of who Adrien Agreste is. And piano is also such an  _Adrien_  thing to do. But when I’m fencing, I don’t feel like him. I feel like me.”

“You talk as if Adrien isn’t you,” she studied his face for a moment. “I suspected that you felt more yourself as Chat,” she said it so quietly no one else could possibly have heard. But he did, and he stiffened as though accused. “For me, my mask is my literal mask. And  _this_ ,” she gestured down herself, “is more me. But you’re the opposite, aren’t you? Your mask is your perfection as Adrien. But I see you through that,” she stopped them in front of the bakery, pulling him by the arm to face her, to look into her eyes. “You  _are_  Adrien, though, because even without your claws, you’re Chat too. I didn’t see it until I started looking, but it’s there. You still have a terrible sense of humor, and you can’t sit still no matter what. Your smile and laugh are still the same, only I didn’t realize because you don’t smile and laugh nearly enough in school. I think your perception is just messed up. I think that you resent who your father wants you to be—hell, who most of  _France_  wants you to be, as his son—and you think that that’s you. But it’s not. You just can’t see yourself through the fog of what other people expect you to be. But I wish you could. Because you’re brilliant. And you deserve to feel like  _you_  just as much when you do anything as you do when you fence or volt around the city at night.”

Adrien just stared at her, looking shocked and even a little panicked. She knew this look. The flighty, cagey look of Chat Noir when he realized he was making too big of a space for himself somewhere. He looked so genuinely terrified at the prospect of being truly known that Marinette couldn’t fend off tears prickling at her eyes. Here was the moment, she thought. She had to be brave. She’d practically admitted to it once today already, hadn’t she? Might as well do it properly now. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I fell in love with you twice, but until I knew you were two halves of the same coin, I wasn’t  _in_  love with you.”

“Marinette,” he started, but seemed as unable to pull together a coherent thought. Marinette waited patiently, face burning with embarrassment, though the tears had thankfully stopped. At last, Adrien spoke again. “I was so happy when I found out about you, I couldn’t believe my luck that I wouldn’t have to give you up at all. But I should have known who you were the moment I started falling for you. Because who else could I ever love but you?”

Marinette smiled, tears returning, though this time they were happy ones. Marinette felt Adrien pull her to him, wrapping her in arms she planned to spend the rest of her life coming back to. She looked up him, and he looked down at her. And they were so close. If she leaned in a little more…

“Marinette, dear, why don’t you and your friend come in now?”

Marinette froze and could feel her entire body going bright red.  _Just call me Ladybug,_  she thought. They were still on the street, in the twinkling dusk of Paris. Outside her home. In plain view of everyone, including her Maman, who cared to look. And look Maman had, for she was now holding open the door and beckoning them inside with a smile.


	16. A Perfect Kiss

“Would you like some cookies, dear?” Maman asked as she ushered Marinette and Adrien into the living room. Marinette had no disillusions of who she was talking to, and elbowed Adrien with a pointed look to get him to answer the question.

“Oh, yeas, please, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng,” Adrien said with a sheepish smile that made Marinette want to tug him closer. She settled for scooting over until their legs touched.

“It’s so nice of you to come over, Adrien. I’ve been telling Marinette to invite you for weeks.” Maman smiled as she set down a tray of cookies and tea.

“Thank you for having me,” Adrien said politely, as though this had been the plan all along.

“So, how long have you two been together?”

“Maman!” Marinette shrieked, mortified. Beside her, Adrien had gone completely red.

“Oh, alright, I won’t pry.” And, for the most part, she didn’t. The next hour was excruciatingly awkward and full of small talk, but no more questions about dating arose. Which was good, because Marinette figured that they needed to be asking those questions to each other first before they could answer them for anyone else.

“Thanks again for the cookies,” Adrien said when, at last, tea time was over and Marinette pulled him up towards her room.

“Any time,” Maman smiled. Marinette half expected her to make a comment about leaving her door open. But, mercifully, she just retreated into the kitchen, humming happily.

“Sorry about that,” Marinette said when they were up the hatch.

“Don’t be. Your parents are really nice, Marinette. I like them.”

“Yeah, I mean, me too,” she laughed nervously. “But still, thanks for putting up with her.”

Adrien just shrugged, like it really was no big deal. He climbed right up to her bed and settled himself in his customary spot, stuffie and all. Marinette smiled to see him there. “So,” he started, hesitant. “ _Are_  we dating?”

“Oh,” Marinette’s cheeks went instantly pink. “Only if you want to be…”

“I mean, obviously I want to date you,” he said quickly.

“And I want to date you,” she hastened to say, before any misconceptions could so much as be thought.

“So it’s decided then.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re dating.”

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled. “We’re dating.”

“Cool.” Adrien buried his face in the cat stuffie, but his ears were very obviously pink. Marinette clambered up to her bed, too, and easily fit herself on it beside him, mimicking his position on his stomach. She lay her head down on the stuffie and turned to look at Adrien, who had yet to emerge from it.

“We need to talk configuration,” she told him. He turned to look at her then, and the look on his face was nothing short of bafflement. “Who’s dating whom? Marinette and Adrien, and Chat Noir and Ladybug? Or Marinette and Chat Noir and Adrien and Ladybug? We have to keep them separate or we’ll be found out.”

“I forgot how complicated this was going to be,” but he didn’t seem upset by it.

“So? Thoughts?”

“I don’t care. It’s all the same to us, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Marinette shrugged one shoulder. “I just have to either convince all our friends that my infatuation with Chat Noir was short lived, or that I really did give up on you in favor of,” she laughed, “of you. So, what’s it gonna be?”

“If I dated you as Chat, I’d be able to sweep you off your feet.”

“And if I dated you as Ladybug, I could do the same.”

“There’s something romantic about a superhero and a civilian, don’t you think?”

“You really are a sap, aren’t you?” Marinette teased. Then, “but you’re completely right.”

“But I want to be able to hold your hand at school. And tell all my fencing friends that my girlfriend’s in the crowd, cheering me on.”

“And go to movies without any fanfare. And walk down the street as two normal people.”

“Or save the city as to super ones.”

“So then we date as civilians and as superheroes.” Marinette grinned. “We’d better give Alya the news first. She’ll forgive me anything if I get her the scoop on Paris’s favorite superhero duo finally getting together.”

Adrien laughed, but then his expression grew more serious. Marinette’s heart skipped a beat. Slowly, Adrien’s hand came up to brush against her cheek, then found its way into her hair. She rolled onto her side, allowing him to pull her in closer, and she found herself bursting with emotions that wanted to expose themselves through a fit of giggles.

She was about to kiss Adrien Agreste.

She was about to kiss Chat Noir.

She was about the kiss her boyfriend.

Here, laying on her bed, with her cat stuffie beneath their heads, of all places. It made her giddy and nervous and it bubbled to escape from her. But she swallowed it all down and instead pressed her lips to Adrien’s. His mouth was warm and his hand at her back was a sure and strong as the one in her hair was gentle. Everything, in that moment, was beyond perfect. She smiled against him and pressed even closer. She didn’t think she could ever be close enough to him.

But she could try.

☆ . ｡ .:* ฅ (ↀ ᆺ ↀ) ฅ  . ｡ .:* ☆

“You’d better leave,” Marinette said, reluctantly disentangling herself from Adrien. It was a hard thing to do. He was so warm and a steady purr resonated through her bones as he held her. She was not eager to leave either just then, but she had to. She sat up and looked out over the dimming skyline of Paris. “My parents know you’re here. They’ve got to see you leave.”

“A drawback of using the front door,” Adrien said with a lazy smile.

“I’ll walk you out,” she told him as she fixed her hair. She considered combing Adrien’s back into place too, but as it was it looked so messy and screamed so much of Chat Noir that she couldn’t quite bring herself to erase it at the moment.

“We should go on a proper date,” he said as they stepped out onto the street. “Andre would be happy to see us again.”

“I’d like that,” she laughed. “His ice cream always knew we were meant for each other, huh?”

“It’s the most magical thing about Paris.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to escape all your obligations long enough for a date?”

“I’ll figure it out.” He took her hand gently and kissed it. “Until tomorrow, Princess.” Her hand slipped from his as he walked away and Marinette watched him go until she couldn’t see him at all.


	17. A Great Day

Marinette hadn’t really known what to expect when dating Adrien Agreste, in a real and actual way, but she certainly hadn’t expected to find him waiting outside her front door the morning after they’d started. It was so out of the realm of possibilities that Marinette just stood and stared when she saw him. He gave her a shy smile, seeming a little embarrassed now.

“Is this okay?” He asked. “I mean, can I walk you to school?”

“Oh!” Now Marinette felt her face flush. She let the door close behind her and carefully stepped out into the foot traffic. Not that there was much of that on her quiet street so early in the morning. “Yes. I’d really like that.”

Adrien held out his hand and Marinette took it, heart skipping a beat as their fingers laced together. Such a small thing, really, but to her it felt momentous. They talked about everything and nothing as they walked to school and by the time they arrived, she’d practically forgotten that there was anything out of the ordinary about this. It just felt so natural, so right, that it seemed impossible that they’d never done it before.

At least, until they actually walked inside the school. Chloe gasped so loudly that the entire student body spun around to see what the commotion was about. All eyes fell on Adrien and Marinette, still hand in hand. Marinette tried not to blush, but it was no use. She fidgeted, nervous and unsure, but Adrien only held her hand tighter.

“Well,” Alya said, loud and clear. “It’s about damn time.” A smattering of laughter followed her remark, and some seconded the sentiment.

“I guess Chat Noir was a false alarm, after all,” Rose put in. Marinette tried to think of a proper response to that, but she came up short.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe’s voice rang out, fury finally winning out over shock. “You absolute lying little slut!” Everyone’s attention immediately snapped over the Chloe, redfaced in anger. “I’ll tell everyone all about your stay in my daddy’s hotel!”

Marinette was frozen in horror, the warm and fuzzy embarrassment of moments before morphing into mortification of the worst kind. Chloe had as good as told the whole school what she knew. Even if she hadn’t spelled it out, everyone would be able to fill in the blanks.

“Chloe!” Rose broke the silence, horrified. “How could you say that? Marinette’s never done anything to you, it’s unfair for you to attack her like that!”

“Yeah,” Alya agreed. “You can’t make up lies about people just because your crush likes them instead of you.”

To Marinette’s delighted surprise, and Chloe’s chagrin, there were mumbles of assent from all over the main entrance. Marinette relaxed. In the end, it had been that easy to defuse this whole situation.

“Congratulation, you guys,” Juleka said with a smile as the bell rang to start class. Marinette had a feeling that today was going to be a great a day.

☆ . ｡ .:* ฅ (ↀ ᆺ ↀ) ฅ  . ｡ .:* ☆

“You should know,” Nino was saying as he, Alya, Marinette, and Adrien sat down for lunch. “Adrien’s a cat person.”

“I know,” Marinette laughed.

“But you decided that cats didn’t fit into your perfect family,” Alya teased. “She wants a hamster,” she told Adrien. Marinette flushed furiously red. Nino and Alya were really having too much fun with this.

“I found out I like cats a lot more than I thought I did,” Marinette huffed. Adrien pulled her in for a half hug and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

“Glad to hear it,” he said with an easy laugh. Marinette scowled at him too, for not being as easily teased by their friends as she was. “And I’ve always wanted a hamster.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, I like the little ones the best.”

“Me too! I want a roborovski hamster,” she told him, animated now rather than flustered. “They’re the smallest and fastest breed of hamster, did you know? And they make the cutest little chirping sounds.”

“A roborovski, huh?” Adrien thought about it for a moment, then his face lit up in a smile. “We’d have to name her Robocop, then.”

“Robocop? Absolutely not. No way.”

“Just you wait, by the time we get her, it’ll be too late to change the name because that’s all I’ll call her. You’ll warm up to it.”

“You’re the worst,” but she was laughing. “Robocop is probably the stupidest name for a hamster ever.”

“Robocop the roborocski hamster. I think it’s perfect.” The trouble was, Marinette was already accepting her poor hamster’s fate. She’d put up a fight for show, but she knew that he was right. She’d warm up to it, in the end.

“You guys are disgustingly in love,” Alya said, feigning a gag.

☆ . ｡ .:* ฅ (ↀ ᆺ ↀ) ฅ  . ｡ .:* ☆

Marinette stood on her balcony overlooking her city. It was beautiful. She sometimes forgot just how pretty Paris was. She always seemed to be too busy saving it to properly appreciate it. She let out a contented sigh, thinking of her day with Adrien. It had been a normal day. But it had been so much more than that, too. All the glances they’d shared, the little touches, the inside jokes muttered between classes…she smiled just thinking of it. And today had only been the first day of many. Of the rest of her life, she couldn’t help but hope.

A light  _thwump_  and a whoosh of air prompted her to turn. Chat Noir crouched there, as he had so many times before, on the railing she was leaning against. Marinette smiled. No longer did she worry about his permanence in her life. She knew that he’d stay with her. And for now, that was enough. She couldn’t take away the pain and anxiety he felt, couldn’t fix his father, couldn’t make everything okay. But she  _could_  love him. And that, she knew, was all he wanted from her.

“You came,” she said, smiling as he unfurled from his crouch and stepped down onto the solid floor beside her.

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“You spent all day with me,” she laughed, “I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to come.”

“I never get bored of spending time with you, Princess,”he told her with a grin and an overdramatic kiss of her hand. “Besides, I’d be lonely without our balcony talks.”

“Yeah, me too, Chaton.” Marinette didn’t even think twice before pulling him in for a kiss. He seemed surprised, but soon had his arms wrapped around her, a purr building inside him all the while.

“Careful,” he said quietly when she pulled back for air. “We wouldn’t want anyone seeing us like this.”

“I know,” she said, but only pulled him closer. “I just don’t care right now.”


End file.
